


Gram: Wrath

by brokenmimir



Series: The Saga of the Seven Swords [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Action, Gen, Nine Worlds, Norse Mythology - Freeform, Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 19:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 53,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenmimir/pseuds/brokenmimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the ancient dragon Fafnir decides to devour all of Sweden, Buffy and Willow must embark upon an epic quest to acquire the one weapon that can stop it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**Disturbed Slumber**

 

Black clouds covered the sky claustrophobically, as great mountains thrust from the dark earth like talons seeking to claw the heavens. All was cold, and a terrible stillness sat upon the land, waiting for an end to its interminable brooding. For centuries nothing had changed in Nidafjöll, but that time of quiescence was at an end.

Change was heralded by the crowing of a sooty red rooster, its call echoing from mountain to mountain as it filled the silent land. In a valley between two of the forbidding mountains was an area of great devastation, as the stunted plants which grew in other areas lay withered and dead in that place. As the crowing echoed through that valley, a great figure stirred from its cave, its long slumber interrupted by the sound.

All was still again, until a great roar rent the air, signaling the awakening of a terrible creature. It emerged slowly into the dim light, its long sinuous neck leading the way. It strode upon four legs, and was covered in black scales which glittered as it moved. Its body slowly stretching as it yawned, a mouth full of razor sharp teeth on prominent display.

As it began its journey, no being dared impede its progress. The great beast had eaten all who had opposed it for more than a millennia, and few were foolish enough to stand in its way. The dragon would have welcomed such a challenge however, as it drooled poisonous saliva as it contemplated its next meal.

Soon it would devour villages of men all across Sweden, and all of Midgard would once more tremble at the wrath of the dragon Fafnir.

 

* * *

 

Buffy sat up with a gasp. She was soaked in cold sweat, but her mind was still locked on the vivid images of her Slayer dream. Only once before had she seen a dragon, when she had stood over Glory's portal, but what she had experienced in her dream was far more terrible than that small beast which had slunk into the world.

Standing, Buffy swiftly dressed and headed to her new Command and Control. Her old castle had been destroyed by the forces of Twilight, and she had lost most of her best equipment with it. Fortunately, Xander had become an expert at dealing with logistics, and he had managed to put together a basic set up before she had finished getting her troops settled. Things were a bit more primitive than they had been, but she had everything that she needed to save the world. Or, as the case was in that instance, Sweden.

When she arrived she hesitated for a moment, surprised to see Xander up at that hour. From the condition of his hair, she saw that he had just showered, and so guessed that he was up for the day. She had hoped that she was too early see her friend, having been doing her best to avoid him ever since they had returned from the Otherworld.

Buffy and Xander had grown into closer friends than ever before while working together to run her army in the war against evil, but she had never been good about opening up about her feelings, and after being burned so often, she was twice as wary about talking about her love life. Xander and her had rarely discussed it in the past, as he had usually hated her boyfriends, and she wasn't sure how he would take the fact that she had fallen in love with Satsu.

To be honest, Buffy wasn't even sure how to take that fact. She hadn't realized how much she had felt until her love had been used to steal Satsu's soul, which had simultaneously revealed her true feelings to both herself and Xander, as well as provided the perfect demonstration for why Buffy and love were completely incompatible. Knowing how she felt for Satsu, she was even more determined to keep her as far from herself as possible. Somehow, though, she doubted that Xander would agree with her decision. It was a fight she really wasn't looking forward to.

Xander noticed her, and gave her his patented grin. “Wow! This must be a record. I didn't think you even knew this time existed.”

“Hey!” Buffy objected, grinning. “I've been up this early lots of times.”

“Staying up all night doesn't count,” he said.

“It so does! Besides, the early Slayer stakes the vamp,” Buffy said, before frowning. “Except, you know, not, what with the whole vamps not being up during the day thing.”

“Truer words,” Xander agreed with a sage nod. “So, what drags you out of bed at this hour, oh baggy-eyed leader.”

“Baggy-eyed!” Buffy yelped, her hands going to her face. “I'm not... its not my fault. I didn't put on make up, an-and I've been working so hard... and...”

She glared at Xander as he began to chuckle. “Sorry, Buff. They do call it beauty sleep for a reason, you know.”

Buffy pouted at him for a moment, any guilt she had been feeling at avoiding him swept under the rug at his gentle teasing. She knew he would push for a conversation eventually, but his banter obviously showed his willingness to let it wait, something that she really appreciated. Finally, she sighed, becoming serious. “How're you supposed to get forty winks when you dream about a big black dragon eating Sweden.”

“Sweden?” Xander asked. “What, does it like meatballs?”

She rolled her eyes. “Slayer dream. Evil dragon. Research it.”

He gave her a sloppy salute. “Aye, aye, ma'am.”

Buffy yawned, giving him a lazy wave as she left the room. “I'm gonna catch a shower. Tell the researchers to step on it, and call Willow in. This is big. I can feel it.”

“You heard her,” Xander said to the staff. “We've got work to do.”

**Author's Notes**  
For the second part of this tale, things move into Norse mythology. Nidafjöll is a region of Hel, and the name means 'dark mountains.' Its the place where the dragon Nidhogg comes from, and since I didn't want my Fafnir to live in Midgard (Earth), I decided that it would be a good place for him to dwell. The red rooster dwells in Hel and its crow, when joined by two other roosters, is supposed to signal the end times. In this case, its just used to wake Fafnir up. That I made up on my own, but it seemed oddly appropriate.


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**Sisters**

 

“Look, Dawnie,” Buffy said with a tired sigh. She had been up since far too early in the morning for her sister to be this difficult. If she wasn't a centaur, Buffy would think she was as stubborn as a mule. “What do you want out of me? I'm trying, okay. It's apparently not good enough, but it's all I got.”

Dawn sighed, looking away. The two of them had been fighting constantly since she had become General Buffy full time, mostly, in Dawn's opinion, because Buffy barely even looked at her anymore. “Did Xander send you out here again?”

“No!” Buffy snapped, finally running out of her already short supply of patience. “I've got Xander and Wills and my people researching my Slayer dream. So since I was free, I decided to come see my sister, who for reasons I'm having trouble remembering I love to death, but if all you want to do is fight, I can get that, well, everywhere. Like from the dragon coming to eat Sweden.”

Buffy stood up, her back stiff with anger. “Wait,” Dawn said quietly, looking at the ground. “I don't want to fight.”

Buffy sighed, sitting back down and putting her head in her hands. “Dawn, what am I doing wrong? I know I'm busy, like, always. I know I should pay more attention to you, but you don't make it easy, with the smart mouth and the passive agression. Can we just... I love you. I...”

“Um, Buffy,” Dawn interrupted.

“Wait. Let me say this first. I know I haven't been here for you as much as I should have. But that doesn't mean I don't care!”

“Buffy,” Dawn tried again.

“'Cause I do. Lots. Lots and lots. I just don't always do a good job with the showing. But the caring is there!”

“Buffy!” Dawn shouted.

“Okay. I suck. I get it. So I'm just going to say this. I love you, Dawnie. And I want to do better. And... and I'm sorry.” Buffy sighed in relief. She had never liked apologizing, but it felt good to get that off of her chest.

“Thanks,” Dawn said wryly. “And I'd love to finish this moment, 'cause really, totally a moment there. But I'm having a different kind of moment over here.”

Buffy finally looked up, and gaped in shock. Instead of the centaur Dawn had been transformed into, she was now facing a tiny doll in the form of her sister. “Dawnie!?!”

“Yeah, hey sis!” Dawn said, waving a tiny doll arm. “I seem to have come down with a case of dolliness.”

Buffy gently picked her sister up, staring at her with so much fear and concern that Dawn shifted guiltily. “Are you okay? Does it hurt? I'm going to get Willow. And then I'm going to find that Kenny, and I'm gonna rip his tentacles off and stuff them in places that, um, I guess he has?”

“Wait,” Dawn said. “Don't hurt him. It's my fault.”

“He cursed you! I let it sit 'cause you wanted me too, and you could take care of yourself. Now I'm gonna...”

“No. It is my fault. He only cursed me 'cause I slept with his roommate!”

Buffy paused, her jaw hanging open in shock. “What?”

Dawn looked down miserably. “I knew he as a thricewise, but I still dated him. And I pissed him off. I knew it was dumb... but I did it anyway.”

“Why?” Buffy asked, shocked.

“Look around!” Dawn shouted, suddenly angry. “You were my only sister a few years ago. Now there are all these Slayers, and they're like, all sorta-little-sisters to you. And they've all got powers, and they fight for your army, and... and how do I compete with that?”

“Oh, Dawnie,” Buffy said, with a quiet intensity as she looked down at her sister. “Why would you do that to yourself? Becoming a giant, a horsey, a doll? That is so beyond normal passive-aggressive.”

“You never even talked to me!” Dawn shouted, before looking down and speaking with a choked voice. “I thought after Sunnydale we'd spend time together. But you always had to go get Slayers, or go fight demons, or train your troops, or a hundred other things. I was at college for a month, and you didn't even call once! Not once!”

“Dawn,” Buffy choked, tears in her eyes.

“No! It's my time to say something. I know what you're doing is important. I get it. It's your life's work, and it's saving so many people. You're literally saving the world. But you forgot about me. You always forget about me.”

“I'm sorry,” Buffy said. “I am. So, so, sorry. It's no excuse. But Dawnie, if you ever believe anything I ever say, believe this. I got a thousand soldiers. Only one sister. I love you more than anything. Anything. It's no excuse, but if I had any idea you felt so ignored, I would have done something. I just thought you'd want some space, what with the college and all. Why didn't you tell me?”

Dawn swallowed, before looking away. “I wanted you to care enough to call.”

“I do. I love you Dawn.”

Dawn looked up. “I know. I just... I felt abandoned.”

“Not anymore!” Buffy said firmly. “I'll let Xander get the dragon slaying plan together. We'll get Wills and figure out how to break this curse. Then I'll make sure Kenny knows not to mess with the _my_ little sister.”

“No,” Dawn said, shaking her head. “I need to talk to him first. I screwed up, not him. I need to apologize.”

Buffy smiled at her. “Okay. Apologies first, then we fix it. Maybe with slaying.”

Buffy carried her sister to the phone, before dialing and leaving it next to her so that she could talk. Buffy walked out into the hallway, leaning against the wall, lost in thought. She felt like a complete heel. Wiping her eyes, she knew that her mom would be disappointed in her for forgetting her sister, no matter how important her stuff was. There was no excuse.

Sighing, Buffy knew that being sorry wouldn't do anyone any good. If she wanted to make things right, she would have to make an effort to be there for her sister. Not just a few greeting card words and empty promises. She knew exactly how much her father's lack of presence had hurt her. Like father like daughter, she guessed.

“Buffy!” Dawn suddenly shouted.

She ran back into the room, only to pause in shock at the sight of her naked sister, who had returned to human form. “Dawn?!”

Dawn beamed at her for a second, before saying goodbye and hanging up. “So, apparently, the curse only lasted until I apologized.”

“Huh,” Buffy said as she grabbed a blanket to cover her sister. “Good thing it wasn't on me then, huh? 'Cause I do that about once a year, at best..”

Dawn giggled, and Buffy smiled as a knot untied itself in her chest. She had her sister back, and this time she wouldn't let her go so easily. Nothing was more important than family, and she wouldn't forget it.

 

* * *

 

Buffy strolled confidently into the antique sitting room that they had made over for briefings. She had spent several hours reconnecting with Dawn, and she was glad that she had had the opportunity. Somewhere along the way her little sister had become not so little, and she found herself wondering what the woman she was becoming would be like someday. Buffy even believed that she would get a chance to see it, which was a revelation that had surprised her. She had grown so used to having an expiration date, that she didn't usually think about the future.

Willow and Xander had both beaten her there, and the two of them were squabbling good naturedly when she entered. Xander grinned at her. “Hey! If it isn't the Buffster. Fashionably late as always.”

“Always fashionable,” Buffy agreed perkily as she flounced into her seat. “So, whats the sitch?”

“Well,” Willow said. “I figured out what the dragon is. Um, do you want the bad news, or the really bad news? 'Cause I've got plenty of both.”

“See, this is why you're leader Buff,” Xander said. “Me, I'd be stuck on that decision 'til the cows came home. Then, they'd eat us, 'cause, you know, they'd be demon cows.”

“I hate those,” Buffy said, wrinkling her nose.

“Demon cows?” Willow asked. “When were there demon cows? How did I miss that?”

Xander pointed at Willow sternly. “See! This is what happens when you go off South America way and not see your best buds for months and months and months. Did I mention there were months, and many of them? All without my Will fix.”

“Yup, Willow didn't have a cow,” Buffy said, nodding.

“But I wanted a cow!” Willow objected. “We just got jaguars! With the were-ing! Were jaguars: not so cute as you might think.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway. Dragon. Big bad.”

“Thought as much, what with the Slayer dream and all,” Buffy said nonchalantly as she poured herself a cup of coffee, before adding a sinful amount of cream and sugar.

“Yeah, but this is mythically bad,” Willow said. “His name's Fafnir. He's the grandson of another dragon named Fafnir, who was killed by this old Norse guy named Sigurd. This Fafnir's been around and eating Sweden for a thousand years now.”

“Wait,” Xander said, frowning. “How come I haven't heard of this? 'Cause vamps? I get it with the hiding, what with the human looking, and the pretending to be normal. But a big honkin' dragon eating Sweden? How did we not know about this?”

“He hibernates,” Willow explained. “He just gets up once every two hundred years and is a little hungry. So he, you know, eats his way across Sweden.”

“So, what's the worse news?” Buffy asked.

“How do you know that wasn't the worse?” Xander asked.

“'Cause this is our life,” Buffy answered blandly. “No way was that the worse news.”

“Right,” Willow said nodding. “Worse news: Fafnir ate all three Slayers that went after it. And their Watchers. And, um, two covens. And six different armies.”

“So, modern weapons?” Xander suggested. “I always wanted to slay a dragon with a bazooka.”

“Ooh,” Buffy said. “Maybe somethin' extra 'splody.”

“The 'splodiest,” Xander agreed with a solemn nod.

“Whoa there!” Willow interjected. “It won't work.”

“Why not?” Xander asked disappointedly.

“Napoleon tried it last time Fafnir woke up,” Willow answered. “He sent in a battalion of artillery. They got smushed. Then, you know, eaten.”

“So how do I get my slay on?” Buffy asked.

Willow shrugged sheepishly. “I dunno. It ate several covens, so magic doesn't seem like a good idea, and cannons didn't work, so modern guns? Not so good sounding an option. And armies attacked it, and three different Slayers, so old school fighting sounds like a bad plan...”

“Well, what about before?” Buffy asked. At their blank looks she elaborated. “With Far-near senior? How'd Ziggy get him?”

Willow flipped through a book for a moment before answering. “Ooh! Good idea. He had a magic sword!”

“So, magic weapons then?” Xander asked. “Too bad you couldn't keep the Sword of Light. Think the Scythe would work?”

Willow frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe. But it probably isn't a good idea.”

“Why?” Buffy asked.

“'Cause if it doesn't, you and all of Sweden get eaten,” Willow explained.

“That is a problem,” Xander agreed.

“We have to do something, though,” Buffy said. “Was there anything special about the sword he used?”

“Well, it was a pretty special sword,” Willow said thoughtfully as she examined another book. “It was made by Wayland the Smith for Odin, who gave it to Sigurd's father. Odin then broke it, and Fafnir's brother Regin reforged it. So, it was owned by a god, and two really great smiths worked on it.”

“Wait, a dragon worked on it?” Xander asked. “Bet that would save on running a forge, what with the fire breath and all.”

“No, no,” Willow said. “Regin was a dwarf.”

“He was really short?” Buffy asked, confused.

“No,” Willow said, shaking her head. “Like from Tolkien, but way creepier. They're from a dimension called Svartálfaheim. They made a bunch of stuff for the Norse gods, including some really powerful stuff. So a dwarf reforging it? It probably had awesome magic.”

“Well,” Buffy said. “Where is this sword? 'Cause if it's the only thing we know will kill a Far-near dragon? I kinda want it.”

The three of them cracked the books for a while, until eventually Willow got their attention. “Um, well, I found some stuff. It was called Gram, and it was definitely a cool sword. But... I can't find anything on what happened to it. It just, um, disappeared from history.”

“Hey!” Xander said, his eyes lighting up. “Idea. Lotta Norse peoples liked to make burial mounds, with all kinds of cool stuff buried with them. What if it disappeared 'cause it was in his tomb?”

“Ooh!” Willow said, nearly bouncing in her seat from her excitement. “Good thought! If it was buried with him, then no one would see it again. It would just be sitting there, collecting dust, except not really since it would be covered in dirt, but still. Not being used.”

“Cool,” Buffy said, smirking. “So where did Ziggy die?”

“I dunno,” Xander said, shrugging. “I couldn't find anything about that. Still, it can't be that hard to find, right?”

“Also, um... I had another thought,” Willow interjected. “Remember how you were talking about Twilight, and how he is, well, causing havoc on an apocalyptic scale?”

“Uh huh,” Xander agreed. “Shouldn't be too much trouble for a bit still. Too early for full apocalypse season.”

“Still, don't wanna get caught by surprise,” Buffy said. “We've got so many resources now. Seems a shame not to get the jump on the baddies for a change.”

“Exactly!” Willow said excitedly. “So, I was reading about Fafnir, and apparently his heart would be a great ingredient for a ritual to learn all kinds of stuff. When we kill him, you should bring it back, and we could learn about Twilight, you know, before he tries to kill us.”

“Ritual?” Buffy asked skeptically. “I'm not gonna have to eat the heart, am I? 'Cause that was no fun at all last time I did that. Stupid no mouth demons...”

“See, it's a really cool spell that all this Norse reading made me think of,” Willow continued, ignoring Buffy. “I'll summon Huginn and Muninn, Odin's birds, and they'll find out stuff for us. Since we have to kill Fafnir anyway, I think we should do it.”

“Odin's birds?” Xander asked, concerned. “Won't he be upset, you know, about his pets going missing?”

“It'll be fine,” Willow said dismissively. “We won't need them long, and I'll send them back when we learn about Twilight. Still, I think it's worth doing.”

Buffy hesitated. “How 'bout we wait and see after we deal with the dragon. Color me crazy, but that sounds like a big enough project to worry 'bout just now.”

“Alright, but still: two birds, one stone," Willow said, before her eyes suddenly widened as she began to speak quickly. "Which, actually, you probably shouldn't say. 'Cause they are real, actual two birds, and we want them to help, so bringing up stoning them, probably not of the good."

“Anyway, back on topic,” Buffy said, smiling at her friend's trademark babble. “How do we find this guy's grave?”

“I can find it in a jif,” Willow said, shrugging. “Just a quick little spell, and...”

“Are you sure you need to?” Buffy interjected suddenly. “I mean, its probably in some musty ol' book, right? Why don't we just look it up?”

Buffy had been thinking quite a bit about what had happened during her trip to the future. She had encountered an evil, black haired Willow, and had been forced to kill her. Ever since then she had watched her friend immediately jump to magical solutions to every problem, and it reminded her chillingly of the year before she had tried to destroy the world. Buffy really didn't want to have to kill someone she loved, again.

“It'll only take a sec, Buffy,” Willow said, her forehead creased with confusion.

“It won't take long to find something in the books,” Buffy countered, grabbing one and flipping through it, frowning when she realized that it was in Norse.

Willow rolled her eyes and grabbed the book from her. “It's just a little spell.”

“Uh, Wills,” Xander said, looking between the two women worriedly. “I might be going way out on a limb here, but... that sounds familiar. In a bad way.”

“Please,” Willow scoffed. “I'm way different than I was. I've got everything under control now.”

“We just worry,” Buffy said, smiling placatingly. “Magic is... dangerous. Even when you're doing good stuff... there's always consequences.”

“What is this?” Willow demanded. “An intervention?”

“No!” Xander objected. “No way! I didn't even know the Buffster was worried about it. We didn't plan, or colude, or-”

“Colude?” Willow asked, bemused.

“Hey!” Xander objected. “I know fancy words and stuff. Got a high school diploma and everything.”

“Yup, we picked 'em out of the rubble, remember?” Buffy said smiling, before becoming serious again. “We just worry, Willow. We don't want to lose you again.”

“Hey,” Willow said, shaking her head. “Totally under control. Really.”

Buffy and Xander exchanged a look, before Buffy sighed. “Alright, Wills. If you're sure. Just... be careful.”

“Hey, it's me,” Willow said, smiling. “I'm always careful. Completely. I mean, who else looks both ways twice before crossing the street? Or, you know, a hallway.” She left for a minute before returning with a map and setting it on the table. She chanted quietly, and then a glow appeared on the map. “There! In Sweden.”

“Well, that's convenient,” Buffy said, looking at it closely.

“Gullringen,” Xander read. “That sounds familiar.”

“It does?” Buffy asked, looking at him askance.

“Yeah, let me think,” Xander said, frowning thoughtfully. “Come on brain! You can do it. Oh! Remembering... right. Gullringen. I was thinking about sending a team to check it out.”

“Why?” Buffy asked. “Is somethin' happening there?”

“Mental patients,” Xander said. “People go crazy there, way more than they should.”

“Glory?” Buffy asked sharply.

“No,” Xander denied, shaking his head. “Not remotely Glory-like. Completely without any Gloriousness”

“Oh,” Willow said, relieved. “That's good. “Cause more Glory? That would be bad. Really bad.”

“Well,” Buffy said. “If it isn't a hell god, what is it?”

“Research said it might be a draugr,” Xander answered.

“Is that supposed to mean anything to me?” Buffy asked.

Xander rolled his eyes. “Really nasty undead guy. Lot of powers, plus can't be hurt with weapons.”

“How do I get my slay on, then?” Buffy asked.

“You can't kill the creature when its up,” Xander answered. “You have to dig its body up, chop off the head, burn the two parts, then toss the ashes in the sea.”

“Thorough,” Willow commented.

“Yeah, you have to really not want it around,” Xander said nodding. “I mean, if it was me, I'd get the message once you chopped my head off, but apparently draugr are a bit more stubborn.”

“So what do we do if its up already?” Buffy asked.

“You have to wrestle it back to its grave,” Xander said. “Of course, that's not too easy, since it can change size, and is all super strong.”

“Plus, crazy making,” Buffy pointed out.

“Yup,” Xander said nodding. “Some have other powers, too. So, you gotta be ready for anything.”

“I should probably come with,” Willow said. “I can help you find the tomb faster, and if he's immune to weapons, having some spell power around? Sounds like it would be of the good.”

“Who else are you taking?” Xander asked Buffy.

She thought about it for a long moment, before sighing. “Actually, I think it'll have to be just Wills and me. There's this Judas Cradle vamp who's 'sposed to be leading an army against us, and I don't want to split our forces. Wills and I will do the tomb raiding, you take care of the vampire army.”

“Tomb raiding?” Xander asked with a hopeful grin. “Are there costumes?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Just shovels. Anyway, you're in charge. I think Rowena should be in charge of the girls – she's ready for more responsibility.”

“Yeah,” Xander said, nodding. “She's comin' along fine. So, you gonna jet?”

“You need long Willow?” Buffy asked as they stood.

“No, I've got a go bag ready,” Willow said, shaking her head. “Just need to pick it up.”

“Okay,” Buffy said, nodding. “How 'bout we head out after dinner? Wanna order chinese?”

“BUFFY!” Dawn's voice echoed through the entire castle. “Why does a giant salmon think it has your permission to date me?!?”

“Second thought,” Buffy said. “Let's eat in the air. Ready to go?”

“Buffy!” Dawn shouted as Buffy climbed out a window. She really hoped that Dawn wouldn't hold a grudge about the whole Bradan the were-salmon thing. Especially since she had just made up with her.

Still, it _was_ funny, just as she'd hoped.

**Author's Notes**  
I borrowed some wording, as well as the concept for the details of Dawn's curse from Season 8 Issue #25. I changed some things around, and made it a bit simpler, but I didn't want to spend a lot of space dealing with the curse. What was really important about that was Buffy and Dawn becoming closer again.

The Judas Cradle thing was also from issue #25. He was a wannabe big bad, which was taken care of with virtually no work on Buffy's part. I would like to reiterate, that while I may use aspects of the later parts of season 8, anything after the beginning of Issue #20 is not officially a part of this story.

Gullringen is a real town in Sweden. Neither I, nor anyone I know, has ever been to Sweden. I selected the town by googling and looking at Wikipedia entries. I am going to be making up everything about Sweden using shoddy research, so don't expect any accuracy. The mental patient thing has no basis in reality; that is a common danger for having a draugr in the neighborhood, so I had that happening in the town.

Bradan the shape changing salmon is from the previous story in this series. Buffy told him he could date Dawn because she thought it would be funny, and to get some revenge on her because of how much they've been fighting lately.


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**Maddening Foe**

 

“Not much to the place, is there?” Buffy said as she looked out the window of their tiny rental car.

“Not really,” Willow agreed. “Less than a thousand people. They do have a club football team, though.”

“I've never been much for football,” Buffy said, wrinkling her nose. “'Cept the cheerleading part.”

“How long have you been living in Europe now?” Willow asked, rolling her eyes. “They call soccer football here. So, you know, not like football back home.”

“Ugh. Soccer's even worse. I mean, at least in football you have cheerleaders, and Homecoming, and violence. The only good thing about soccer are the butts.”

“Always with the violence,” Willow said, shaking her head with fond exasperation.

“I don't always do violence,” Buffy objected. “I can be diplomatic and stuff too.” At Willows pointed silence she sighed. “Okay, usually I'm all about the violence. But violence? It works. People might say violence doesn't solve anything, but I really have to disagree. Maybe even with a fist.”

“All right, before you start beating up the locals, how about we try to find this burial mound.” Willow pulled over next to some trees. “Aradia, Goddess of the lost, the path is murky, the woods are dense, darkness pervades, I beseech thee, bring the light.”

A glowing mote appeared in front of Willow, who smiled at her friend, although her expression dropped when she saw Buffy's wary look. “You make fun of the violence making, but I'm not the only one that jumps right to the same answer to every problem,” the Slayer said pointedly.

Willow ignored her and spoke to the light. “Guide me to Sigurd's grave.” When the mote of light pointed the way, she put the car back into drive and they began to move again, although the playful atmosphere of before had become strained.

Buffy fidgeted, but was unable to figure out anything to say to Willow. They had been so close once, but their relationship had never been the same after her resurrection. It had only become worse when Buffy had found out that Willow blamed her for Tara's death. Add to that killing her in the future, and Buffy had no idea how to bridge the gap between her and her oldest female friend.

Finally, she pulled out her communicator and stuck it in her ear. “Hey, Xan, you there?”

“Of course, Buffster,” Xander said through the link. “I'm reading you loud and clear.”

“We made it to that town in Sweden...” Buffy said, trailing off.

“Gullringen,” Willow supplied.

“Right. That town,” Buffy said. “We're heading towards the tomb now. How'd the vamp army thingie go?”

“It went,” Xander answered. “Well, _they_ went when they saw all the Slayers. We spent more time trying to catch them than fighting.”

“So, all's quiet?”

“Sorta. Not dangerous anyway, but I'd lay low until Dawnie gets off the warpath,” Xander said, his voice amused.

“She didn't like him?” Buffy asked innocently.

“Actually, they seem to be getting along pretty well,” Xander conceded. “She just thought the whole thing was a bit fishy.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Did you use up all your good material on that giant? Anyway, I just wanted to check in, so let me know if anything comes up.”

“Sure thing, Buff. See you soon.”

“So,” Willow said. “What's the deal with fish boy? I mean, it's not like you to approve, you know, at all, anyone dating Dawnie. Why're you letting some fairy date her?”

Buffy shrugged. “He was friendly and awkward. Kinda like a puppy. Plus, the whole fish thing? Sorta funny. 'Sides, I'm pretty sure I scared him bad enough to keep his fins off my sister.”

“Ah,” Willow said, nodding. “Better the boy you know is terrified of you, than the one you can't slay?”

“Yup. I didn't even get to slay Kenny, and he was a demon who cursed her. That keeps up, her dates might start thinkin' they can live after hurting my little sis.”

“Wouldn't want that,” Willow agreed blandly.

Buffy tensed suddenly as her spidey-sense began to tingle. Everything grew dark, as out of nowhere storm clouds gathered. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, and rain began pouring down in buckets. “Willow! This isn't normal weather!”

“Noticed that,” Willow said, her voice tight as she kept a firm grip on the wheel. Lightning flashed again, this time blindingly close, as a tree next to the road was struck, exploding. The burning tree crashed down in front of their car, forcing Willow to slam on the breaks. It was too late, however, as the car plowed into the fallen tree, crushing its front end and throwing the two women into their seat belts with bruising force.

“Ow,” Willow murmured as she called up magic to heal herself. Buffy simply grunted in agreement before climbing out of the car.

The rain was still falling impossibly heavily as Buffy scanned the area, her gaze searching for the source of the dangerous feelings that her senses were screaming at her. Slowly the rain let up, and as it receded she noticed a stench like rotting flesh. Casually walking out of the trees came the figure of a tall man with long, stringy hair, sunken black eyes, and bruised skin like a beaten, rotting corpse. The only clothing he was wearing was a loose, single piece garment made from matted fur that came off of one shoulder and hung low like a skirt, bound at the waist by a thick leather belt.

Buffy glanced back at Willow, and after assuring herself that her friend had survived the accident, she turned back to the draugr. “So, you're Ziggy then?”

“I hight Sigurd, mortal wench,” the creature rumbled with a sepulchral voice. “Who might thou be, that cometh to this place, ill knowing mine own name?”

“I'm Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I'll be kicking your ass this evening.”

He rumbled with laughter. “Surely thou dost jest! Not e'en if I should reduce mine stature could thou oppose my might.”

“Are you calling me short?” Buffy asked dangerously. “Are you seriously going to make fun of me, Mr. Thinks-Dirty-Fur-Loincloths-Are-In-Fashion?”

“Then dare my reach, strumpet!” Sigurd bellowed.

Buffy charged forward, jumping into a flying kick at the last moment. Sigurd crossed his arms in front of himself and simply grunted as he took the blow, the forced causing him to slide slightly backwards, although he did not shift his posture. Buffy had expected more of a reaction, and was caught completely out of position as he grabbed her by the ankle.

Buffy reacted quickly despite her surprise, kicking out at him with her free leg and shifting her body weight to try and dislodge his grip. Unfortunately, he was incredibly strong, and even as he held her he grew larger and larger until he stood nearly ten feet tall, where he easily kept her out of his reach. She barely had time to even gulp before he swung her body around and slammed her into the ground.

Buffy grunted as the air was knocked out of her with the impact, her eyes widening as he simply lifted her again and once more slammed her into the ground. Her head spun, and everything grew blurry as she was lifted straight up once more and smashed down again. Her mind was still sluggishly trying to process everything that was happening, when a vibrant purple ball of coruscating energies struck the draugr from behind.

Willow had been shaken up by the accident, but compared to being lobotomized as Warren had done to her, repairing her injuries from the car accident had been nothing. Unfortunately, by the time she had completely recovered and had exited the vehicle, Sigurd had already gotten his hands on Buffy, and had begun to pound her into the dirt. Before she even had a chance to think about it her eyes turned black and a dark spell gathered on her hand.

The magic should have torn her enemy apart, the wild and barely contained destructive force more powerful than anything that she had thrown at Glory. However, instead of the torn and savaged back she had been expecting, the spell simply splashed against him as harmlessly as if she had been throwing water balloons. Willow could only stare in shock as the undead creature slowly turned its head to face her, a malevolent grin crossing its swollen lips.

“Didst thou thinketh that it would be so easy to deal with me, witch?” Sigurd snarled contemptuously.

“That's not possible,” Willow said as her eyes returned to normal. “That spell should hurt anything with a body. And, hello, body! Grabbing my friend with it and all. You should have felt that. Why didn't you feel that?”

The draugr chuckled darkly. “Fool. Thou truly believed that thy reckless acts would bring thee no consequence to thy door?”

“What do you mean?” Willow asked warily as she considered her options. Something had prevented one of her best attack spells from having any effect, and trying others without knowing why would simply be a waste of energy. Fortunately, talking kept Sigurd's attention away from Buffy, who she could see was already starting to recover from her beating.

“The doom of the gods is upon thee, witch. When thy delved deeply into arts long forbid all of mortal ken, thou trespassed into the realm of the dead to recover thine perished friend. This violation thou didst commit under the auspices of Osiris, and he allowed thy meddling as thy rituals were honest and done with proper respect.

“But then, that was not enough for one such as thee. In thy o'erweening pride at what thou didst accomplish, thou sought to once more reach into that place which no living being dare go. This time, thou didst not make ritual, nor the least obeisance to the god thy invoked. And, when thy unruly demand was denied, thou sought retribution against Osiris.”

“Tara...” Willow said quietly, her face pale. She remembered vaguely her attempt to resurrect her lover, and her lashing out at Osiris when he didn't allow it.

“For thine impertinence, Osiris has forbid thy magics to have any traffic with that which is dead, e'er again.”

“But-but vampires!” Willow countered. “I've cast lots of spells on vampires... and zombies! No problem at all. Just cast and BAM, bag guys gone. Or, you know, dancing.”

“Vampires are but demons that happen to make home within dead flesh,” Sigurd said. “Zombies are naught but corpses made animate by mortal arts. Neither lies truly within the realm of death. E'en ghosts transition fully into the mortal world, and thy spells can find purchase upon such them. But I? I am no simple spirit, nor corpse ridden beast. I am draugr! I am that which is restless yet truly dead, and so thy magics will avail thee naught!”

Willow pursed her lips in consideration. “Oh. Well, glad you cleared that up, then. 'Cause, you know, I would have looked really silly later if I had to do some spell on something that's really of the dead and then poof – no effect. Also, telling me that? Helps here too.”

Willow waved her hand, and with a creaking groan the trees bent and twisted, becoming as supple as ropes as they wrapped around the giant form of the draugr, before beginning to squeeze. “I can't cast a spell on _you,_ but my magic? Works just fine all around you.”

The trees pulled tighter and tighter, until Sigurd dropped Buffy to the ground before the wood snapped together like the jaws of a trap. From every gap and crevice in the wooden vice came wisps of black smoke, which drifted through the air to an open spot away from the trees, before reforming into a cloud. Slowly the smoke gained definition, until it eventually transformed into the figure of Sigurd, unharmed and returned to his original size. “Clever trick, witch. Yet still not enough.”

“I'm just getting started,” Willow answered as her eyes turned black. Incanting under her breath, she held out her arm with her palm to the sky and her fingers spread wide. Raising her arm, the ground began to shift, until a huge hand made of stone pushed its way out of the earth. It rose high into the air, and then, with a furious gesture, she sent it crashing down on top of the draugr.

Sigurd didn't move an inch, simply standing and waiting for the blow to fall. The ground shook and dirt flew into the air in all directions. Gesturing again, Willow raised the hand into the air, revealing her opponent still standing, completely unfazed by the attack.

“I can see many things, witch, and looking at thee, I see now that which has been wrought by thine petty arts. As flayed flesh is particularly to thy liking, then perchance this form may strike thy fancy.” So saying, the draugr's flesh began to bulge, before his skin tore to shreds. An enormous flayed bull burst forth from the remains of his body in a shower of thick, black blood, the horns still half covered with strips of torn skin.

The draugr pawed at the ground for a moment, before charging forward, blood dripping behind it with every step as its exposed muscles flexed and shifted, driving the monstrous creature forward. Willow gulped for a moment, before jumping into the air, her magics lifting her to safety as Sigurd crashed through the trees behind her, smashing them into kindling. It stopped quickly and spun, its dead eyes glaring up at her.

Willow shifted uncomfortably in the air as she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Looking up, she barely had time to open herself to the earth before a bolt of lightning crashed into her. Grunting with effort, she felt her entire body tingle and her hair stand on end as she channeled the untamed power through her body and into the core of her being. Glaring down at the bull with hair now streaked with white, Willow shouted a word of power and threw the lightning bolt at the draugr.

The bolt hit Sigurd squarely, but in response he simply shifted back into humanoid form, his staccato grunting transforming into mocking laughter. “Nay, witch. E'en the fury of mine own storm shall avail thee not, filtered as it it by thy magics. Nothing that thou canst do can stop me!”

“Maybe not,” Willow said calmly. “But see, we already know how to stop a draugr. I was just along for backup. And, well, backup done.”

“Thanks Will,” Buffy said as she stalked towards the undead monster. “You're the best backup, ever. Have I mentioned the gratefulness lately? 'Cause I am. Totally. Also: round two.”

Buffy ran forward, her steps sure and full of confidence and purpose. She was ready for anything he could throw at her, as she rushed in close to grapple him before he could use any of his many powers to stop her. Unfortunately, he chose the one tactic that she did not expect.

Before she could reach him, the still laughing draugr simply sank into the earth, disappearing completely. The storm overhead quickly dissipated, and in moments she felt his presence withdraw entirely. “No fair!” Buffy objected with a pout.

Willow landed next to Buffy. “That was no fun at all!” the witch complained. “Since when are the baddies immune to my magic? That's so cheating.”

“That's not the only cheatin' goin' on. I don't think he did anything but cheat. Total cheater.”

“Yeah!” Willow agreed with a nod. “He should be renamed Chester, 'cause of all the cheating. And whatever happened to the days of just vampires? I mean, stake to the heart – poof – no problem. Now its all weird powers, and not being beaten like they should.” She glanced over at her friend and noticed Buffy was standing stiffly. “Oh! Are you hurt? 'Cause he was hitting you really hard there for a bit.”

“I'm fine,” Buffy answered flatly. At Willows doubtful look she sighed. “Nothing serious. Few bumps, coupla bruises, some scratches. Maybe a tiny little contusion. Just need a hot shower and a few hours sleepy time and I'll be healthy Buffy again. What about you? Not everyday you get struck by lightning. Plus: car wreck.”

“I'm fine. Fit as a fiddle. Why do they say that, anyway? I mean, what's so fit about a violin?”

Buffy smirked and grabbed their luggage from the car, listening with half an ear to her friend's babble as she led the way towards the main part of town in search of a hotel room. While she wasn't lying about only needing a single night's sleep to recover, that didn't mean her beating hadn't left her sore and looking forward to a soothing shower.

Gullringen was very small, but eventually they did find a tiny hotel which rented a room with two beds to them for the night. Buffy showered first, taking her time with the water on its highest setting to sooth sore muscles before changing into boxers and a tank top and claiming a bed. While Willow took her shower the Slayer grabbed her cell phone and laid down on the bed.

“Hey Dawnie,” Buffy said when her sister picked up.

“I'm mad at you,” Dawn said ominously, although with little heat.

“In my defense, you were being all mean to me at the time. And a fish dating you sounded funny.”

“Hilarious,” Dawn sad flatly.

“Ah, come on,” Buffy cajoled. “You have to admit, he wasn't bad looking in human form. And he seemed to be all gentlemanly. When he wasn't trying to buy you.”

“Buy me?!?”

Buffy chuckled, and smiled. It felt good to bicker with her sister again, without the real anger that had been between them over the last several months. Eyeing the bathroom door, she sighed as she considered other relationships that had been strained of late.

By the time Willow was ready for bed Buffy had already hung up on her sister, and had settled on her front on the surprisingly comfortable mattress, unwilling to lay on her back as it had suffered most of the bruising. While things didn't seem awkward between them, she knew that they had many unresolved issues, but she didn't know how to bridge the gap that separated them. Even though they were sharing the same room, Buffy had rarely felt further away from Willow.

**Author's Notes**  
The spell Willow used to find Sigurd's grave is from the Season 4 episode Fear Itself.

Nothing but whimsy drove me to use a quasi-Shakespearian dialect for Sigurd. I got the idea from the use of similar language in Marvel Comics for the Norse gods, although this is not actually a crossover with those works.

Draugr are nasty customers, which appear in many stories and have a host of abilities attributed to them. I've decided to use a little bit of just about everything for my portrayal. As a note, the hand of dirt did nothing because he could pass through dirt and stone, as he did when he left.


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**Dreams of Madness**

 

The village of Gullringen was dark at night, and no one was out late enough that evening to see the creature that stalked through the quiet streets. Even if someone had been awake, they would have thought nothing about the large black cat with short, matted fur and yellowed teeth. The fact that it walked as though it owned the night did nothing to set it apart from any other large tomcat that roamed the streets.

The cat reached the small hotel that had been its destination, and sat on its haunches, its head cocked to one side as it studied the building. Walking around to one side, it looked both ways before jumping up towards the second floor. It leaped straight up more than a dozen feet and simply flew through the stone wall of the building, landing casually on the floor within.

Taking in the room, it first stalked over to the bed containing a petite blonde. Jumping up onto the foot of the bed, it examined the woman, before turning its gaze to the redhead across the room. Satisfied, it strained for a moment, before its head split in two, each half reforming into a whole, leaving a two headed cat standing on the blanket. Each head focused on a different woman, as the creature sat completely still. Both women twitched and then lay unmoving as well, with only the shallowest breathing indicating that they lived at all.

 

* * *

 

Buffy walked cheerfully through Restfield cemetery, a contended smile on her face as she slowly twirled her stake. It was a crisp, clear night, and she was looking forward to getting her slay on before Bronzing. She broke into a happy grin as she saw Xander and Willow waiting for her at the gate out of the graveyard.

“Hey guys!” Buffy chirped perkily as she jogged up to her best friends.

“Hey! It's the Buffster!” Xander said, grinning goofily at her.

Buffy started to say something, but stopped when she noticed that something was wrong. “Xander... did something happen?”

“What do you mean, Buff? What could have happened?” Xander asked casually.

“I dunno. It's just... something seems different.”

“It could be that I still have my eye,” he said nodding sagely. “You haven't gouged it out yet.”

Buffy stumbled back, nearly choking on her own tongue. Blinking, her eyes widened in horror as she saw her best friend now sported a bloody, empty eye socket. “W-what!”

“Yeah, I sure do miss the ol' depth perception. Seeing 3D? Really underrated, and for more than just cheesy summer blockbusters.”

“I wouldn't... I wouldn't hurt you...”

“But you did. 'Course, that's just the visible wound. That's got nothing on the times you killed my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, Buffy,” Anya said from behind her. “Why did you kill me? I had just begun to have orgasms with Xander again, and then you took me away from him.”

“Anya!” Buffy gasped spinning around. She covered her mouth when she saw the massive sword wound that had killed her. Despite it she still stood unfazed, blood pooling at her feet. Standing next to her was a short haired, dark skinned woman with a gaping hole in the middle of her chest. “Renee...”

“Wow, you remembered me?” Renee asked mockingly. “I thought I'd have to join Slayer row over there, but I guess dating Xander made sure you'd know my name.”

“Too bad you didn't live long enough for him to give you any orgasms,” Anya said, shaking her head sadly. “He was very good at that.”

“Yeah, eye loss?” Xander said. “Sure, sucks like you wouldn't believe. But I really wish you hadn't killed them.”

“I'm sorry,” Buffy said thickly.

“Sorry doesn't unkill people, Buff,” Xander replied sadly.

“That's why I'm keeping Kennedy away from you,” Willow said harshly. “You killed my Tara, and if I let you be around Kenn, you'd kill her too.”

Buffy looked at her other best friend, who now had black hair and eyes, and stood next to the bleeding form of Tara. “Why did you have to shoot me, Buffy,” Tara asked sadly. “I-I thought I was your friend.”

“Plus, don't wanna be a downer, but, you know, you killed me too, in a Not-Even-Told-Current-Me about it Time-Travely kinda way,” Willow said, pointing to a new hole in her chest which was spewing blood.

“Oh, god,” Buffy said, turning and running. Her tears nearly blinded her, but it wasn't enough to prevent her from seeing the lines of girls who reached out to her as she ran. Some of them were potentials, many of which she had buried in her own back yard. Others were Slayers who had fallen under her command. Girls who had died because of her choices.

Turning a corner she ran straight into Angel, both of them stumbling back in surprise. “Buffy?” he asked, his quiet voice concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Angel!” she said. “You're okay!”

“Not really,” he said, shaking his head regretfully. “After all, you sent me to hell.”

Stumbling back, she noticed the blood pouring from his chest as he reached out to her, before he was sucked into a terrible vortex. Averting her gaze with a sob, she then noticed Spike staring at her. “Spike!”

“Yeah luv?” he said casually, pulling a cigarette from his mouth.

“What's going on? Why is this happening?”

“Why? 'Cause your so good a' killin' everyone you care 'bout, Slayer. Even me.” Slowly flames began at his feet, burning and consuming him until not even dust remained. With an anguished scream, Buffy began to run again.

She ran and ran until she heard a voice shouting for her. Turning around, she saw Giles glaring at her while he polished his glasses. “Giles? What's wrong?”

“What's wrong?” Jenny Calendar asked, causing Buffy to spin around again. She gasped as she saw the woman's head hanging at an unnatural angle. “ _You_ let Angelus kill me, and you ask what's wrong?”

“Y-you kill everyone, Buffy,” Giles said in an intense, yet quiet voice. “Everyone close to you suffers and dies. We've all lost lovers because of you, and you've lost two yourself. You're a plague. I could hardly wait to return to England after you came back, so that I could start a life again. It's not as though I could have had one with you waiting in the wings to kill everyone I grew close to.”

Buffy couldn't listen any longer, simply turning and running from the accusing voice. Ahead of her she saw a couch, with her mother lying on it, unmoving. Averting her gaze, she simply ran on until she could run no longer, eventually collapsing to the ground, gasping for air. When she could finally breath again, she wiped her tearing eyes and looked up.

In front of her was a gravestone. Written on it was her name, Buffy Summers. Below it were the words: She died all alone, having killed everyone she loved.

Buffy covered her head and wept.

 

* * *

 

Willow smiled as she walked into Buffy's living room. She couldn't wait to see her friend, so that she could tell her how much she had improved at the whole magic thing. Her smile dropped when she saw her friend's distraught expression. “Buffy, what's wrong?”

“I had to send Angel to hell,” Buffy forced out, her voice choked and hoarse. “Not Angelus. He got his soul back... and I had to send him to hell.”

“I didn't mean to hurt you,” Willow gasped, her eyes filling with tears.

“We never really worry about the consequences, do we?” Her own voice crooned, the tone full of dark promises.

Spinning around, Willow gasped in shock at seeing her vampire doppelganger. “You! But I didn't mean to summon you! I was tricked!”

“You never mean it,” Xander said. Looking at him, Willow cringed, as he was covered in bruises and blood as a host of demons circled him. “Everything's just fine and dandy. Except we're the ones who suffer.”

“Y-yes, if I could, um, see anything, I would surely be glaring at you,” Giles said, his attempt to glare with his blind eyes being very off target.

“How could you do that?” Buffy asked. “I mean, I'm glad I'm getting to marry the Big Bad, but what about the others?”

“I'm sorry!” Willow squeaked out.

“Don't be sorry!” a voice behind her boomed. Willow spun and gaped when she recognized Olaf the Troll. “You let me out of that crystal! Bring me ale and succulent babies to eat, and I will be well pleased!”

Suddenly the floor bulged upwards, and bloody hands forced themselves out of the patch of dirt. Buffy, filthy and bleeding, pulled herself out of the ground. She looked around blearily, until her traumatized eyes locked with Willow. “Is this hell? Why did you tear me out of heaven?”

Willow turned and ran, her feet carrying her into the kitchen. “I'm Joan!” Buffy said cheerfully.

“Maybe I'm Umad,” Dawn said, smiling at her sister. The others all stood around, looking slightly confused, as a hoard of demons pushed the backdoor open. Everyone screamed in fear and confusion, none of them knowing what to do.

Willow turned around to run again, and bumped into Tara. “Willow, how could you do that to me? After Glory, h-how could you mess with my memory!”

“I'm sorry, Tara,” Willow choked out.

“Does sorry cover magic burns?” Xander asked, his chest smoking from her magics.

“Or broken arms,” Dawn asked, glaring angrily.

“Or missing skin?” Warren asked, dripping with blood.

“Or an apocalypse?” a dark haired Willow asked.

Willow ran outside, through her friends who suddenly couldn't see her, past everyone else who had ever suffered because of magic gone wrong at her hands. Finally, she stopped, snarling angrily. “That is _enough!”_ she shouted, her eyes turning black as a wave of power flowed outward from her, disrupting everything and transforming her dreamscape into an empty void. She glared at the large black alley cat that hovered across from her. “I get it, my spells went wrong a lot. Not exactly headline news. Also, what's with the Miss Kitty Fantastico look?”

“I can appear in any form that I desire, witch,” Sigurd said.

“But a kitty? Bad guys playing all cute is just wrong!”

“If thou wish to discuss that which is wrong, then perhaps our attention should turn to that which thou doth do with thy magics,” Sigurd said. “Thy spells go awry with great regularity, and it is always those close to thee that suffer for it.”

“I know, I know, bad Willow,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Bored now.”

“If thou art so bored, then I shall show thee something that should gain thy intrest.”

Between one blink and the next the void filled, becoming a dark cavern. Willow watched as a somewhat battered version of herself talked to an injured Buffy, who was wearing a familiar yellow tanktop and pants combination. Willow couldn't hear what they were saying, but Buffy soon turned and walked further into the caverns with a determined expression on her face. The Willow from the vision snarled angrily, her eyes turning black as she shot a spell at Buffy, blasting her to the ground from behind.

“No...” Willow murmured. “This is just a big fat lie. No way. I would never...”

“This is what now stands to come to pass, witch,” Sigurd intoned. “Betrayal shall come from the closest, most unexpected quarter.”

Willow swallowed hard at the words as she recognized the clothing that Buffy had been wearing. She had seen it before from the vision in Sephrilian's lair. She and Buffy had seen a vision of an injured, crying Buffy, lying on the ground wearing that outfit. They had been told that it would be a betrayal – the closest – the most unexpected. If the draugr was showing her the future, had she been the one to betray Buffy? Had she gone black eyed and veiny, and shot her friend in the back?

“Shut up,” Willow said quietly.

“Disturbed, witch?”

“I would never...”

“Not e'en to preserve that which thou hast made thy life?” Sigurd asked, his voice hard. “This age of the world is at its close, the arrival of the herald of endings and rebirths, Twilight, proves this. What shall the next age be? Art thou prepared for what shall come?”

“What do you mean?”

“Follow thy path with the heart of young Fafnir. The council of Huginn and Muninn may be of great aid to thee.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Willow asked suspiciously. “Aren't you trying to, you know, kill us?”

“If I fall, then the fate of all this world may someday be in thy hands,” the draugr said with a terrible intensity. “What shall arise in the new age, witch? Art thou prepared for that which is to come?”

“Prepared enough,” Willow said, her eyes turning black. “By the way, did you know that invading dreams like this? Kinda the same trick a necromancer does to empower a corpse, except, you know, not all deady. I may not be able to hurt you out there, but in here? Wanna know what it's like to be skinless?”

“Until next time then, witch,” Sigurd said, turning into smoke and fading away into nothing before Willow could blast him. “Until next time...”

 

* * *

 

Buffy finally brought herself back under control, wiping her eyes and speaking without looking up. “I know you're here. This is some kinda dream attack thingy.”

“That it is, Slayer,” Sigurd's sepulchral voice intoned. “I am surprised that thou didst escape mine snare with such alacrity.”

Buffy turned around, her hard expression barely flickering with surprise when she saw the black cat sitting on a tombstone behind her. “You think you can scare me with dead friends and spooky messages? 'Cause the First was way better at this, and I still squished it.”

“If the past has not the power to lay thee low, then what of a glimpse of that which is yet to come?” the cat asked.

“What do you mean?” Buffy demanded.

“Look around thee, Slayer,” he said with a voice full of dark knowledge. “Know that what I show thee is that which may yet come to pass.”

Buffy examined her surroundings, and noticed immediately that she had been taken somewhere else. The ground was covered with snow, and she saw trees of a different sort than those which had been in Sunnydale where her dream had been previously. Standing nearby she saw herself, dressed in a red and yellow kimono covered in images of white flowers. She was holding a long, straight bladed sword of exquisite workmanship, which was dripping with crimson blood.

Buffy slowly walked forward, until she stopped with a horrified gasp at what she saw on the ground. A woman dressed in a blue and white kimono covered with images of snowflakes lay in the snow, the red of her blood standing out starkly against the white as it pooled around her. A katana with a black wrap lay next to her hand, and she stared up at the sword wielding Buffy with a look of resignation on her face.

The woman was Satsu.

“No,” Buffy whispered.

“Yes,” Sigurd said. “Thou shalt strike down yet another foolish enough to love thee, Slayer.”

“No!” Buffy shouted. “You're lying!”

“Nay,” Sigurd said, his voice sad. “Thou shalt come to this day ere the dawn of a new year, when thou shalt cross blades with yon woman.”

Buffy stayed quiet for a long moment, before a shiver ran up her spine. Looking around, she noticed a shadowy figure watching from the trees. She couldn't see who it was, other than that they had black hair and were wearing a dark dress. Continuing her search, she finally saw what she was looking for.

“This whole dream invasion thingy... you've never tried it on a Slayer before, have you?”

“Nay, I have not,” Sigurd said, his tone suddenly wary.

“In the spirit of fairness, I think you should know that we aren't the only ones in here. And she... she doesn't like intruders.”

Buffy pointed behind Sigurd, and he turned his head in time to see the First Slayer standing behind him, a stake at the ready. Before she could strike, the cat turned into smoke and disappeared. The dream dispersed as quickly as he had.

 

* * *

 

Buffy sat up with a gasp, her heart pounding. Glancing across the room, she saw Willow likewise sitting up in bed, obviously disturbed. Neither saw the large black cat that ran through the stone wall and into the night.

“I didn't wake you, did I?” Buffy asked quietly.

“No!” Willow said, smiling nervously. “Not at all. I was already awake.”

“Oh,” Buffy said. “You okay?”

“Yup!” Willow said, just a touch too emphatically. “No problems at all. Nothing to worry about. Not a thing!”

“Really?” Buffy asked skeptically.

“Fine,” Willow said, sighing. “Sigurd was all in my dreams, trying to be all scary.”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, totally lame. I mean, does he really think he could follow up the First with the same schtick? Talk about amateur hour.”

Willow chuckled. “Yup. He tried to scare me by showing how many times I've screwed up with magic. I mean, duh, right? Tons of my spells used to go kablooie. Not exactly news here.”

Buffy chuckled slightly. “You definitely have come a long way as witchy girl. Back when you were making people get married, and turning Xand into a demon magnet, did you ever think you'd be all up up and away?”

“Well, maybe a little,” Willow said, blushing. “When I wasn't thinking I'd never move more than a pencil, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Buffy said smiling. “Plus, Ziggy did some 'this is your future' crap. Crazy, right?” Willow didn't answer for a moment. “It is, isn't it? Crazy? 'Cause he couldn't really be doing the vision thing, could he?”

“Draugr can see the future,” Willow said quietly. “I don't know why he would show u-um, _you_ , a vision of the future, 'cause he totally didn't show me one! But I don't know why he would show you a vision, since he didn't show me one, not at all.”

Buffy looked at Willow skeptically.

“What was your vision about?” Willow asked quickly. “'Cause it might be true, and then, um, you should get ready for it, right? Plan things out?”

“Could I plan stuff and change it?” Buffy asked desperately.

“Sure!” Willow said firmly. “You stopped some of your Slayer dreams, and this is like that. Just 'cause someone foresees, doesn't mean it'll happen. You can change stuff. So if you had a very bad, awful, won't let it ever happen _ever_ vision just now, um, you can stop it. 'Cause it won't happen. Ever.”

Buffy thought about that for a moment, a knot loosening in her chest that had appeared when she had seen the vision of Satsu dead by her hand. She really needed to keep swords away from her lovers, she decided morosely. “What about other stuff? If you didn't just see the future, but, I dunno, went there maybe? Could you change that?”

“Of course,” Willow said as she laid back down. “By being there you'd change stuff. Like in Back to the Future, where he time traveled and changed stuff and everything was all different.”

“But that was going to the past,” Buffy said as she laid down as well.

“Yeah, but it's the same thing,” Willow said. “It would just be a possible future. You could still prevent it.”

Buffy stared up at the ceiling for a long time after Willow fell asleep, thinking about the future. She wouldn't let Satsu die. And she wouldn't let Willow turn evil and full of dark magic either. Both were only possible futures... and she would make them _im_ possible.

There was no other option.

**Author's Notes**  
Draugr often took the form of a cat, and also liked to enter the dreams of their victims. Furthermore, they had the power to see the future, so the visions were not simply a bluff. Ah, prophecy, the cheapest form of foreshadowing.

The future vision from Sephrilian's lair, and the statement about the betrayal, are from Issue #10 of season 8. Since this bit of foreshadowing is part of the material that I am using as canon, I've reappropriated it for my own purposes (so don't expect the same betrayal). The references about Willow being evil in the future is from the Time of Your Life comic arc, which is also part of my canon. Buffy killed a dark version of Willow when she travelled centuries into the future in that arc. She has yet to tell anyone about this, but is very upset. Remember, I stop using the comics as canon per se after issue #20, so don't expect things to go the same after that.


	5. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**The Barrow**

 

Buffy and Willow strolled through the forest, following the glowing mote of light that Willow had conjured to lead them to Sigurd's grave. They had both slept restlessly after their late discussion, and both were still deep in thought as they walked. Eventually the glow began to grow brighter as they neared their destination.

Finally Willow broke the silence. “So, what are we gonna do?”

Buffy pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Well, your mojo doesn't help a whole lot against him, what with his whole 'I'm immune to your magic' thing. And I can't just slay him, 'cause he's immune to weapons and really hard to kill.”

“Right,” Willow said, nodding. “You have to wrestle him back to his grave, and then we can dig him up and finish him for good.”

“Yup. He's got all kinds of freaky powers though, so it won't be easy. But I bet if I get my hands on him, I can take him. So, your job is to make sure I can get my hands on him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, while I'm being all wrestley, you block his stuff. He tries to make a storm? Break it up. Lightning bolts? Shield me. Gets away from me? Tie him up with plants. That sorta thing.”

Willow thought about it for a moment, before nodding. “Okay, that works.”

“Sweet and simple,” Buffy agreed. “Complex plans are bad plans.”

They walked for a few more minutes in silence, until the sky began to grow dark. Looking up, they saw that there were no clouds overhead – the sun was simply growing darker and darker. Soon the only light was the spell that Willow had cast.

“I think we're getting close,” Buffy said.

“What tipped you off?” Willow asked dryly.

“The ominous day to nightiness,” Buffy said nodding. “Let's just hope no vamps ever think to work with one of these things. That would get old fast.”

Up ahead they saw a dim glow, and soon they saw what was producing it. A raised mount of dirt and stones sat at the center of a clearing, and it was emanating a pale green light. The two women cautiously approached the barrow, keeping their eyes peeled for the draugr as they did so.

“What is this,” Buffy asked quietly. “The light feels... warm...”

Willow looked at her in concern as Buffy's eyes glazed over, and she began to walk towards the light. “Buffy? It's just foxfire. It's a bioluminescent effect of some species of fungus, and I guess it's growing here, which isn't that surprising since... Buffy?”

“She cannot hear thee, witch,” Sigurd said as he slowly rose out of the center of his barrow. “That one has touched true death, and so knows that which lies beyond when she feels it. This light is no mere manifestation of nature, but is in truth the barrier from here to what comes after.”

“I don't feel anything,” Willow said, frowning as she reached out with her senses.

“Fool. I have oft stated that thou canst not touch death with thine arts,” Sigurd chided. “But, one who has truly known death? She feels now that which _thou_ hast denied her. Come to me, Slayer, and regain that which thou hast lost.”

Willow mentally nudged Buffy, bringing her back to herself. Buffy sent her thanks, but continued to walk forward, now only pretending to be lost in the sensations of her death.

“Don't, Buffy!” Willow said, trying to distract the draugr from her friend's plan. “You have so much to live for! You've got me, and Xander, and Giles, and Dawnie, and a whole army... um, actually, that part might not make you excited to be alive, what with the whole endless work and pressure, leading the battle with evil and everything. Also, you don't really have any boyfriend, or even a girlfriend after Satsu left... But you have to live, 'cause you're my friend, and we all need you, and, um, don't die?”

Buffy suddenly darted forward, grabbing Sigurd's arm and extending it, trying to apply a quick arm bar. “Willow, remind me never to send you to talk someone down from a ledge, 'kay?”

“Sorry,” Willow said sheepishly. “You didn't give me time to prepare, and you know I'm not good with doing things under pressure, and having to pretend is like acting, so I got stage fright... and I'm babbling again.”

“Deceitful wenches,” Sigurd howled in outrage as he began to struggle against Buffy's hold. “For this I shall ne'er grant thee surcease to thy suffering!”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Buffy said, twisting his arm. The draugr was no slouch at wrestling, however, breaking her hold and reversing it, seeking to pin her in return. Buffy went with the motion, allowing her arm to be twisted behind her back, before suddenly flipping over, taking Sigurd to the ground and wrapping his arm behind him in a hammer lock.

Sigurd shouted in pain as the hold was applied, before gritting his teeth and straining against her. He was incredibly strong, but with the leverage she could apply in her position she had a tremendous advantage. He lay still for a moment, then suddenly burst into motion, seeking to throw her off. Buffy simply gritted her teeth and applied even more pressure, until, with a sickening crunch, his arm popped out of its socket.

“One way or another you're going back into that grave,” Buffy growled as she twisted his forearm, straining his elbow and contorting his injured shoulder. “Only question is: how many limbs will you have when we get there.”

Sigurd went still, and Buffy began to drag him towards the mound. However, the strain became greater and greater as she noticed that he was growing steadily heavier, and colder as well. An icy feeling began to creep though her body, and a chill seemed to settle into her very soul as she attempted to move the figure.

Buffy grunted with effort as she dragged the incredibly heavy draugr, her feet sinking deeper and deeper into the dirt as she struggled to move her opponent. Her body began to shake from the chill, and as she looked at the glowing mound, she began to wonder what she was doing. She was trying to wrestle an opponent that had knocked around both herself and Willow the day before, and even though she seemed to have the superior position he didn't seem worried at all. Of course, even if she won, she had to wonder what the point of it all would be. She would still be all alone, fighting other opponents until one of them got lucky. Her progress slowed even further as she began to longingly stare once more into the glow that felt so much like the edges of heaven.

“No more of that, mister!” Willow said sternly as a soothing wave of warm power flowed over Buffy, shaking her out of her fugue. “I don't know what that was, but it was nasty!”

Sigurd snarled and began straining to break her hold again, but Buffy gritted her teeth and dislocated his elbow as well, shifting her grip slightly to begin working his wrist too. “Thanks Will,” she said, her voice showing her strain.

“Just doing my job,” Willow said, smiling slightly. “Not too much further, and we can dig him up and go home.”

“Right,” Buffy grunted, heaving him forward despite his weight, which she was pretty sure was now measured in tons. Buffy tweaked his shoulder and elbow slightly, drawing a grunt, before freeing a hand to rabbit punch him twice in the kidney. Reaching down while he was stunned from the pain, she grabbed his other wrist and twisted it backwards, contorting the draugr's free arm into a hold as well. “Guess I was right 'bout the whole smoky thing. You can't do it while touching someone, or you wouldn't have dropped me before the trees crushed you last time. So long as I don't let go, you don't get away.”

Sigurd closed his eyes and concentrated. Overhead, invisibly black clouds gathered against the dark sky. Buffy nearly had him to the tomb when her hair began to stand on end. Looking up, she was blinded and deafened as a bolt of lightning struck downwards.

Fortunately, Willow hadn't been distracted fighting against the creature, and had noticed the gathering storm. Her hair turned white in streaks as she attuned herself to the earth, becoming a mystical lightning rod. When the lightning came down, it struck her instead of her friend, and this time, rather than holding onto it to throw at her foe, she simply let it pass through her into the ground.

Lightning flashed over and over again as the draugr began to fight against Buffy's hold once more, seeking to use the disorientation caused by all of the nearby strikes to escape her pin. His howls of pain were lost in the fury of his artificial storm as his efforts did little more than further injure his already over extended limbs.

When she reached the foot of the burial mound Sigurd tried one last tactic to escape, shapeshifting into the form of a great cat-like creature, all black fur and claws. Buffy's screams inaudibly joined his howls as he began to scratch at her with his hind limbs, laying open her lower legs and nearly taking her to the ground. Buffy gritted her teeth and with one last heave she forced the draugr onto his glowing tomb.

Entering the light, Sigurd transformed back into his human form, his body losing its incredible weight, allowing her to easily pull him to the top of the mound. Overhead the storm dissipated, and by the time she reached the top, the sun had returned as well. Once there, she forced him on facedown on a rock, panting for breath as she did.

“Thou hast won, Slayer,” Sigurd said grudgingly.

“Yup,” Buffy agreed cheerfully as Willow joined them. “Which means goodbye Ziggy.”

“Why hast thou come to this place?” he asked. “What cause has brought thee to seek me out?”

“Got a dragon problem,” Buffy said.

“You seek Gram, which I once used to lay low Fafnir?”

“Yup,” Buffy agreed.

“Then thou shouldst know the curse that hast been laid on this tomb,” Sigurd ground out. “Whosoever taketh from it shall find that what they claim shall cause their death.”

"Won't stick," Buffy said blandly. "Hasn't the last three times. Probably won't the fourth. And if it does, well, it does. We all die sometime, and I'm way past a Slayer's shelf life already."

Sigurd stared over his shoulder at her for a long moment. "Good answer. I hope to sup with thee in Valhalla someday, Slayer."

“It's Buffy,” she said quietly.

“Buffy,” Sigurd agreed nodding. “Until then.”

Buffy pushed, and the draugr sank into the burial mound until there wasn't a trace of him. Standing up she sighed, wiping her hands clean, before looking at her pants, which were bloody and shredded. “Ugh. I liked these pants.”

“Um, Buffy,” Willow started hesitantly.

“Yeah, Will?” Buffy asked when her friend hesitated.

“This curse... it could be real. A lot of old treasure was cursed, which is really dark magic, and this place is steeped in dark magic. Which: obvious, what with the draugr. You wouldn't expect something like that without dark magic being involved. But still, this place is almost as full of dark magic as some spots down at the Hellmouth. Even if it didn't have a real curse on it... it probably does now.”

“Okay,” Buffy said as she grabbed the small collapsable shovel she had brought with her, unfolding it and looking for a good place to dig. Selecting a spot without too many large rocks, she stuck in the blade of her tool and began.

“What part of curse are you not worried about?” Willow asked. “'Cause hello! Curses bad.”

“Probably,” Buffy agreed casually as she hit a large rock. Reaching down, she grabbed it and tossed it aside, before prying up another stone with her shovel.

“Not probably! Seriously! Which you aren't. Taking this seriously. I mean, ancient treasure? Terrible curses? You could die, and you're being all... all not serious girl!”

Buffy sighed and stopped for a moment, looking at her redheaded friend. “Look, Wills, I'm not worried. When I was sixteen an always true super important prophecy said I would die. Remember what I did?”

“You died,” Willow said.

“Yup. Knew I would. Did it anyway. So some curse a dead guy I already slayed warned me about? Not worried.”

“Worry!” Willow whined.

Buffy smiled slightly as she started digging again. “If you want to worry, go ahead. But I got enough worries without getting more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm leading an army! I've got hundreds of girls whose lives depend on me, not to mention trying to keep the world safe! I've got Twilight out there, causing trouble, along with the dragon that wants to eat Sweden. Plus, got future warnings to think about, which are way more a concern than some curse which may or may not exist.”

Willow looked at her friend for a long moment, before trying a different tack. “He said it would kill you. You weren't around last time... but the rest of us? Losing you was awful. Beyond awful. Dawnie was traumatized, and we were trying to hold it together, and we needed you. So if this is about not caring if you die...”

“No!” Buffy said sharply, glaring at her friend. “That first year back? Yeah, I wanted to die. Not badly enough to try, but if something that goes bump bumped me off, I wouldn't have complained. But I'm better now, honestly. I may not be perky Buffy, but I'm not depresso Buffy anymore. I don't want to die. Really don't. But I meant what I said. Everyone dies someday, and if it's the curse that does me in? I intend for it to be a long time from now, fighting evil.

“Besides, you want a curse?” Buffy continued as she worked deeper under the mound. “A curse isn't you'll die someday, woooo! A curse is my love life. So plenty cursed enough over here.”

“Is that an opening, looking for some best friend bonding?” Willow asked hesitantly. “'Cause we didn't do the ice cream and bad movies thing after Satsu... but I didn't think you'd want to. What with the not gay and all.”

Buffy tensed for a moment, before prying up a boulder and tossing it aside with a loud clatter. She desperately tossed her mind about for something else to talk about. “Speaking of love lives, you wanna say anything about snake girl?”

Willow blushed. “Nothing to say. That vision thingie... not important. I'm with Kennedy. I'm good. No love curse here. Or snakey interests.”

“Right,” Buffy said dubiously. She worked quietly for a couple more minutes, before finally reaching her target. Under the mound were several bodies, long decomposed, arranged in a kneeling position around a pile of treasure. While the raw metals were obviously still valuable, in particular the gold, most of the goods hadn't weathered the millennium under stone and dirt well, and were in extremely poor shape.

Willow observed the slowly uncovered piles of treasures curiously, although she refused to touch anything, not wanting to risk being cursed. “They used to bury important people with all the goods they'd need in the afterlife. So money, weapons, slaves, maybe other stuff. They found a whole viking ship in a mound once!”

Buffy nodded and kept working, until she finally found the the quiescent form of the draugr that they had battled over the past two days. Uncovering him entirely, they both saw the sheathed sword he held over his chest. It was straight and double edged, and was just under three feet long. It had a small, trapezoidal guard, plated in silver, and decorated with tiny runes. The hilt and sheath were of black leather, and felt comfortable when Buffy lifted the weapon.

“Well preserved,” Willow noted as Buffy examined it. “It's hard to sense anything over all the dark magic everywhere, but I feel _something_ from it.”

Buffy smiled slightly, before gripping the hilt and drawing the sword. At first she was satisfied, as the weapon, while its finish was not mirror bright, was at least not overly corroded, and appeared to still have a keen edge even after so long uncared for. Her face fell, however, when she finished drawing it, revealing only half of a blade. Turning the sheath over she dumped the fragments that made up the other half of the weapon on a large stone. “It's broken,” Buffy said quietly, her disappointment palpable.

“That's not good,” Willow said. “How are we supposed to kill a dragon with a broken sword? 'Cause I don't know if my magic is gonna do much better against Fafnir than it did against Sigurd. I mean, entire covens tried, and nothin'! And I'm not more powerful than whole covens, especially covens that think they can take on a dragon. This is bad.”

Buffy looked at the sword for a moment, before glaring at Sigurd's corpse. Taking the broken weapon, she swung it down on his neck, cleaning severing the head and burying the balde deeply in the rock under him. They both gaped for a moment before Buffy spoke. “That's sharp. No one sharpened it in a thousand years, and it still cut stone like butter.”

Buffy carefully gathered up the sword fragments and put them back in the sheath, before dragging Sigurd and his head away from the burial mound. Willow built a pair of fires while Buffy took her shovel and filled the barrow back in, returning everything but the body and the sword. “Why aren't you taking the treasure? Not willing to grave rob, but bank rob is okay?”

Buffy tensed slightly at the mention of the method that she had used to fund her Slayer organization. She wasn't proud of what she had done, but she would do it again to make sure that the girls were taken care of. “Cursed treasure. I'm willing to take the risk, but not with everyone else.”

“Okay,” Willow said thoughtfully. “Good point. Cursed treasure would curse whoever got it, even innocent gold buyers. How did you know that?”

“What, I can't know anything?” Buffy huffed as she spread dirt on top of the mound. When Willow didn't say anything for a long moment, she finally sighed. “Fine. I saw Pirates of the Caribbean. Still, I'm right aren't I? I payed attention to more than just Orlando Bloom!”

Willow smiled. “I didn't say anything.”

“You thought it though! I can hear you thinking it. Except not really, 'cause that was no fun at all.”

Together the two women burned the draugr's body and head, before gathering up the ashes in two separate bags and making their way back towards town. Buffy glanced down at Gram as she walked, disappointed by its condition but still impressed by the weapon. Even if they were back to square one, she decided, at least they had gotten to slay something.

**Author's Notes**  
Well, the draugr is finally taken care of. I made up the part about not turning to smoke while touching something, but I couldn't think of any other way a person could successfully wrestle it back to its grave, since otherwise it would easily escape.


	6. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**Preparations for the Quest**

 

“So where'd Dawnie go?” Buffy asked Xander.

After returning to her replacement headquarters in Scotland, Willow had hit the books while Buffy had only taken the time to drop in on her sister and then Xander before hitting the showers and getting some sleep. After getting a decadent six hours she had grabbed a pot of coffee and gone in search of her little sister, but hadn't been able to find her. Eventually she had gone back to command and had found Xander, hard at work as usual.

“Having a picnic, Buff,” Xander said distractedly as he flipped through reports. Buffy had resisted it for as long as she could, but eventually paperwork had begun to accumulate. What had once been a loose operation now had dozens of standard forms, and regular reports from her squad leaders worldwide. She couldn't help but think that if she were one of the new generation of Slayers she wouldn't have wanted anything to do with her army.

“Picnic?” Buffy asked curiously.

Xander smirked. “Yup, her and fish boy.”

“Oh?” Buffy said. “They getting along?”

“So far. Haven't decided if she's dating him to spite you, what with the whole practical joke angle, or if she actually likes him.”

“Hmm. Anything else happenin'?”

“Vamp army stomped out,” Xander said, facing her for the first time. “No biggie. We're gettin' some weird reports from Eastern Europe. Looks like Giles and Faith are out that way.”

Buffy flinched slightly. She still couldn't imagine why Giles had left her organization to spend his time with Faith, especially after Buffy was nearly been drowned in a fountain by the former rogue Slayer the last time they had met. She tried to ignore it, but she felt abandoned every time she thought about it. It was like her father going to Spain with his new, younger family all over again. “Any idea what they're up to?”

“Nope. No string of fountain drownings at least, so that's something.”

Buffy sipped her coffee for a moment. “You know, normally just not killing people isn't considered cookie worthy.”

“Have you spoken to Giles since...” Xander asked, his question trailing off when he noticed how brittle Buffy suddenly looked.

“Nope. He didn't want to talk then, and he hasn't called since.”

“You could call him, you know,” Xander said gently.

“I could do a lot of things. 'Sides, just got Dawnie back to not wanting to squish or trample me. Not sure what she woulda tried to do in dolly form, but I'm sure it would've been of the bad. Anyway, I've got my sister back, and if we can convince Willow not to fly off, we could have the core Scoobs back together. What more do I need?”

Xander looked at her carefully for a long moment. “Thought 'bout making any other calls?”

“Well, I might wanna check up on the twerp,” Buffy said shrugging. “You never know what Andrew will get up to all by his lonesome. Plus, things seem to be comin' along down there; I think Posey could take over as squad leader.”

Xander grabbed a keyboard and pulled up the personel list for the Italian squad. “Hmm. You pick through the Star Wars references and the Marvel Comics comparisons, and I'm thinkin' you're right – she does sound like she could be ready to run things. You sure you want Andrew back underfoot though?”

Buffy smiled slightly. “He's not so bad... in small enough doses at least. 'Sides, he grows on you. Fungus like, sure, but growth.”

Xander smiled. “Fine, fine, he's our pest, got it. Anyway, you know that wasn't what I meant.”

“What you meant?” Buffy asked innocently.

Xander rolled his eyes. “I meant getting in touch with a different squad leader. You know, one you have unfinished business with. Touching business?” When his eyes glazed over she slapped him on the arm. He smirked, but continued. “Anyway, you can't run forever, Buff. We need to talk.”

“Nothin' to talk about,” Buffy said, looking at one of the display screens so that she wouldn't have to look her best friend in the eye. She was sure that if she did that she would start babbling immediately.

“Buff...”

“Look, she left me. And that's fine. Better than fine.”

“You love her,” Xander said softly. “She loves you. Don't see how her bein' on the other side of the world is 'fine'.”

“If I want her to stay fine then she needs to stay there. You saw what happened just 'cause of how I felt, and she was way away. Her being close? Who knows what would happen. 'Sides, since when are you in favor of my love life?”

“I just want you to be happy,” Xander said calmly. “Especially if it isn't written by Anne Rice.”

“Well, I'm fine,” Buffy said petulantly. “Nothin' to worry about. And her being dead would make me way less happy.”

“Buffy,” Xander said, shaking his head. “Fine isn't happy. 'Bout the only time you've really laughed in years was when I was trying out my jangly new look.”

Buffy's lips twitched. “It was a good look. Jester-chic suits you.”

“Well, if I'm the jester, then I can say anything I want to the Queen. And you need to hear this...”

“Buffy!” Dawn called, sweeping into the room. “You're up. Thought you were gonna sleep the day away.”

“Hey, Dawnie,” Buffy said brightly. “Thought you were doin' the picnic thing.”

“I did, had brunch in the woods,” she answered smiling. She then paused, looking back and forth between Xander and her sister. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope!” Buffy said. “So, tell me all about your date. We haven't had sister time like that since... ever. Way too long.”

Dawn smiled happily. “Alright. Are you sure you have time? If I'm interrupting something...”

“Of course I have time for you Dawnie!” Buffy said forcefully, glancing at Xander. “You're my family. I always have time for you.”

“We're going to talk about this eventually, Buff,” Xander said, his voice resigned. Buffy ignore him as she swept out the door, staying beside Dawn as they headed towards the kitchen. With a long suffering sigh Xander went back to work.

“I don't have someone getting me a picnic, so how 'bout I grab some breakfast and we can chat in my room,” Buffy said.

When they arrived in the kitchen Buffy put some bagels in the toaster, and started getting the rest of her meal ready. She was so busy looking for the orange juice that she actually missed Bradan's entrance.

“Good morning, Buffy,” the fairy said. “How does this day find you?”

Buffy stood up straight, nearly banging her head at the sudden motion, before turning around and smiling at Bradan. “Bradan! Good morning. Taking care of my sister? Nothing I've got to gut you for?”

Bradan gulped. “N-no. I've been a true gentleman.”

“Buffy!” Dawn whined. “Now I remember why I never introduce you to my boyfriends.”

“Hey, its the sacred right of the elder sibling to be all threateny. Just doin' the sisterly duty.”

“But you already threatened him before you introduced us. You shouldn't double threaten! There has to be a law against it.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I get it. You're getting too old for your big sis. Pretty soon you won't even want nap time.”

“You take naps?” Bradan asked, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

Dawn rolled her eyes again. “Just ignore her. My sister has this problem with her brain. Seems she's missing one. Anyway, how did you two meet?”

“I had to go on this quest thingie, looking for this big shiny magic sword,” Buffy said, shrugging as she put cream cheese on her bagels. “His brother told me where to find it, and Bradan helped me out.”

“Indeed,” Bradan said nodding. “My brothers and I leant her our tokens, to allow her-”

Buffy suddenly interjected, giving him a hard look as she did. “To find the sword. Nothing much to it. Nothing at all.”

Bradan looked confused, but kept his mouth shut at the harshness of her glare. Dawn looked back and forth between them for a moment, confused. “What happened?”

Bradan started to open his mouth, but stopped as Buffy ratcheted her glare up another notch. “Nothing to tell,” she said firmly. She suddenly realized the downside of having Bradan around; he was one of the only people who knew about her shapeshifting activities in the Otherworld.

Dawn turned her puppy dog eyes on Bradan. “Doesn't sound like nothing.”

The powerful fairy looked back and forth from the Slayer's death glare to his girlfriend's pout, before making a strangled noise. “Gotta go... something... happened?”

Bradan escaped from the kitchen a bit faster than was dignified, and once he was gone the sisters traded a long look, before laughing loudly. “Men,” Buffy said, shaking her head.

“Can't live with 'em, but only Willow wants to live without 'em,” Dawn said, following her sister as she led the way towards her room.

“So!” Buffy said cheerfully. “Tell me everything. Any reason for me to get all choppy yet?”

“Buffy!”

“Come on!” Buffy cajoled. “You didn't let me kill your last boyfriend, and he was a demon who cursed you. 'Sides, people gut fish all the time. The outdoor channel said so. Stupid broken remote.”

 

* * *

 

Buffy strolled into the meeting room that afternoon, taking her seat across from Willow and Xander. “So. Dragon. Nasty. Hungry for Swedish food. Thoughts?”

Willow and Xander exchanged a look, before Willow started. “Well, I studied the sword all night, and I can't fix it. If I tried, it'd just be a really old normal sword; spells by themselves can't fix a magic sword good as new. Especially one this fancy. It has so much runic magic mixed up in it. I mean, wow! I knew rune magic could do some incredible stuff, but-”

“If you can't fix it, and we need it to kill Far-near... then we're screwed,” Buffy interrupted.

“Color me crazy here, but just 'cause we can't fix it doesn't mean it can't be fixed,” Xander said. “Why don't we track down some rune magic guy and get him to do it.”

“Last time it had to be reforged, a dwarf did it,” Willow said. Her eyes suddenly brightened up. “Ooh! We just need a dwarf to fix it!”

“So what, we go find a circus and ask around for midget sword smiths?” Xander asked.

“I think they like to be called Little People,” Buffy said. “I saw a show once.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “I mean magic dwarves. Like from Tolkien. Only not, being Norse and really real creatures from a different dimension.”

Xander and Buffy exchanged a tiny smirk at the flustered response they got from Willow. It was almost as much fun as making Giles squirm. “Other dimension,” Xander asked. “Why does this suddenly sound like the kind of plan that will end badly.”

“'Cause it sounds like a Scooby plan?” Buffy hazarded.

“Oh right!” Xander said, snapping his fingers. “Long experience knowing when things will suck.”

“It probably won't be easy,” Willow said, nodding. “Dwarves won't work for just anybody, and asking one skilled enough to fix this? He probably won't wanna do it. And I'm not sure how we can convince them to. I mean, Loki is a god, and he had to bet his head once to get them to do some work, and he ended up with his lips sewn shut with metal wire. And I can't even imagine how Kennedy could get a tongue piercing, so that sounds really unfun.”

Buffy shook her head. “We're not long on time, so I guess we have to go for it. Xan, you're in charge again, and if you think Rowena did a good job, I'll keep her on as squad leader. Put together a good sized team to help me fight the dragon while Wills and I get my new sword fixed. Remember, they can't hurt it, so focus on fast people who know how to dodge.”

“Gotcha, Buff,” Xander said with a sloppy salute.

“How do we get to dwarfland?” Buffy asked.

“Svartálfaheim,” Willow said.

“Gesundheit,” Buffy said.

“No,” Willow answered, shaking her head. “It's called Svartálfaheim. It's one of the Nine Worlds, a set of related dimensions. Our dimension is one of them. They're all connected by this giant tree called Yggdrasil, which isn't really a tree, but a sort of hyper dimension which can be used to make faster dimensional travel, like hyperspace is faster to travel through than real space... and I'm babbling again.”

Buffy suddenly looked concerned. “When we get there, will time be all wonky on us?”

“No,” Willow said, shaking her head. “All the worlds connected by Yggdrasil share a temporal continuity, so no time type problems. Unless time not being funny is a problem, but it shouldn't be.”

“How are we getting there?” Buffy asked after a moment. “Dimensional travel is pretty big magic, isn't it?”

Willow smiled at her friend reassuringly. “Actually, there's this really neat spell I found a while back, but I've never had a reason to cast it. It's a fast way to travel to other worlds along Yggdrasil, and it doesn't look too hard.”

“Look too hard?” Buffy questioned dubiously. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Willow huffed. “It'll be fine. Better than fine. Finey McFine. No worries at all. Just a cute little spell and everything will be okay.”

“I've heard that before,” Buffy muttered quietly as she followed her friend. She really did need to discuss what had happened during her trip to the future, but she still wasn't sure how to bring it up. “When do you want to do this?”

“Now'd be of the good,” Willow said.

“Are you rested?” Buffy asked. “Didn't you get all wasteful of the midnight oil last night? Wouldn't want you falling asleep midcast. Ruin your witchy rep.”

“Wouldn't want that,” Willow said, smiling slightly. “I'll be fine, though. I got some good sleep already.”

“Alright,” Buffy conceded. “Grab a bag and let's meet up on the lawn in fifteen.”

Twenty minutes later Willow came out to see Buffy and Dawn chatting casually. Buffy had taken the time to change into her blue combat uniform, and to put her hair up into a tight braid. She was also wearing a backpack, which Willow suspected a non Slayer would have trouble moving without a spell, and had Gram sheathed at her side. The only thing Willow had grabbed had been a pack with some clothing, magic supplies, and food.

Willow grabbed a stick and began to draw runes on a patch of dirt, while the Summers sisters wandered over curiously.

“That's Futhark,” Dawn said as she read what Willow was writing.

“What's fool-shark?” Buffy asked.

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Ancient Norse runes. Which makes sense, since hello, you're going to Norseland.”

Willow finished drawing the magical circle, before she placed a single acorn at the very center. She then stepped back until she was outside of her circle. “Ready?” she asked.

“Okay, Dawnie. Be safe,” Buffy said, smiling at her sister as she adjusted her backpack again.

Dawn rolled her eyes. “I'll try not to run around with any scissors then.”

“Stay away from the drugs too, and the rock music,” Buffy said dryly. “Or at least don't, you know, get Dawned while I'm away.”

“Dawned?” the younger woman asked, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

“You know, kidnapped,” Buffy said. “It might take a few days, so be really careful on Tuesday.”

Dawn huffed. “Why did I make up with you again?”

The two exchanged one last smile, before Buffy nodded to Willow. The witch then took a deep breath, before beginning to haltingly chant in Old Norse. Normally she would just use power to compensate for her somewhat sloppy language skills, but she was performing a summoning, which wasn't something to take lightly.

After nearly a minute of chanting a rippling began in the air at the center of the circle, rising from the ground like heat waves in a desert. Slowly the distortion became more and more solid, until, with a blurry shimmer, a gray hole appeared, floating in mid air. Leaping from it came a very strange creature.

It resembled a squirrel of truly prodigious size, with a body nearly as long as an elephant, although much thinner and shorter. However, while it generally appeared to be some form of giant squirrel, it had a two foot long horn growing from the center of its forehead, like some kind of strange unicorn. Furthermore, unlike a normal squirrel, the creature was bright green in color. After passing through the portal it locked its huge black eyes with Willow and began to chitter at her loudly.

“So cute!” Dawn squealed. Buffy shifted her stance slightly to grab her sister if she tried to hug the creature; the Slayer had far too much experience to trust a strange being just because it was vaguely cute. The giant furry creature, however, simply preened at her statement.

“Um, hi!” Willow squeaked. “Um, nice to meet you, Mr., um, Ratatoskr.”

The squirrel creature chittered at the witch impatiently.

“I was hoping we could, um, go some places, you know, along the Yggdrasil. If it's not too far out of the way. We really need to get to Svartálfaheim. Slightly soonish.”

The enormous creature sniffed at her for a moment, before picking up the tiny acorn from the center of the circle and popping it into its mouth. Finally, it nodded and crouched low to the ground.

Willow beamed excitedly. “Thanks! Come on, Buff. Let's go meet some dwarves!”

“We're riding that?” Buffy asked dubiously. The squirrel glared at her menacingly. She glared back.

Willow rolled her eyes before reaching up and scratching behind the creature's ears. “He's not a _that_. This is Ratatoskr. We're lucky he's going to let us ride him!”

Buffy sighed. “Fine, fine. Yay ratatouille.”

The creature chittered at her disdainfully, and Buffy couldn't shake the feeling she had been insulted as she climbed onto its back. “Bye guys!” Dawn said, waving as the two women settled into place. “Good luck!”

“Thanks Dawnie,” Willow said cheerfully.

“Bye Daahhhhhh!” Buffy said, her words interrupted by a surprised yell as Ratatoskr suddenly leapt into the portal.

**Author's Notes**  
The Giles and Faith reference is about Issue #24 of Season 8. While that takes place after the point I went AU, you can assume that that issue is more or less happening in the background of my story. I don't plan on going into any detail about it's events, however – it's simply a bit of background color.

Posey is a real Slayer in Italy from Season 8, and the only one there who's name we know. She was killed in Issue #26. We have no reason to believe canonically that she's particularly capable (her dying quickly in that issue isn't exactly a good sign) but I wanted a potential squad leader to mention, so I chose her.

Ratatoskr is a real creature from Norse mythology, which runs up and down the length of Yggdrasil. Mythology is weird. Anyway, when I saw that, I had this insane idea bout riding it, so here we are. The squirrel riding is not from mythology, and the weird appearance is from an Icelandic text whose illustration is in the Wikipedia article for the creature.


	7. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**A Strange Journey**

 

Buffy couldn't decide what was the most disturbing thing. It could be the way that, when looking up, she could see nothing but gray. Not simply the gray of a cloudy day, or of predawn lighting up the sky, or even of a thick fog rolling in in the morning. It was a gray that seemed caused by nothing, broken by nothing, ended by nothing. It simply _was_ gray, as though it were a blank sheet of colored art paper, ready to be painted upon, but without an artist willing to complete the composition.

When she wasn't looking above her head, she saw that they were moving along a great stretch of what appeared to be bark. It was also gray, but unlike the sky, it was made of varying shades of the color, with imperfections and discrepancies that made it feel real. That sense of reality was questioned, however, by the sheer scope of it. Nothing could be so large, as her eyes could see no end to it in any direction, simple seeing _more_ stretching as far as her keen Slayer vision allowed.

The disturbing sensations of where they were consisted of more than what her she could see, however. She could hear nothing but the beating of hearts and the thumping of clawed feet against wood, the utter silence of the strange dimension they were travelling through causing her senses to focus in on the sounds in a way that she couldn't ignore. Not even the sound of wind whipping past her face from their great rate of speed intruded upon her hearing, as none seemed to be present.

Which was another point that disturbed Buffy greatly. There seemed to be no air, and yet they could breath. Breathing produced no sound, nor did it let her smell any odors, even sitting so closely to Willow that her hair should have been flying in her face. Yet instead, her locks sat as though still, without any wind whipping past, and with a steady enough gate that accelerations did not disturb them.

Furthermore, while they were travelling in a direction that felt, to some deep, primal sense, to be 'down', nothing that she could discern explained why. Gravity did not seem to exist, yet somehow neither they nor their mount floated away from the surface they ran on. Buffy couldn't explain it, yet somehow it simply was, and she decided that she didn't want to know how anymore. She was certain that any explanation would be long, boring, and painful.

Of course, the fact that she and Willow were riding on the back of a giant, green furred, horned squirrel while travelling along Yggdrasil was disturbing enough. Brown Allree had been a strange mount, but the two of them had bonded by the end. Buffy wasn't certain that she could ever make such a connection with a green squirrel.

“This is great!” Willow exclaimed breathlessly as she all but vibrated in her seat from excitement. Ratatoskr chittered cheerfully in reply.

It took all of Buffy's years as the Slayer and her pride to keep from whimpering in disagreement. The very alien nature of the experience bothered her terribly, but she couldn't bring herself to admit it. Instead she simply closed her eyes and held on, hoping that Willow wouldn't notice.

If Willow did, she was kind enough to say nothing, and the time passed slowly. Buffy meditated, focusing entirely on her pounding heart, until, with even, tasteless breaths, she brought herself under control. To her dying day Buffy would never be able to explain why travelling Yggdrasil bothered her so much, only that it did. She was very grateful when they reached their destination.

With her eyes closed Buffy first noticed their arrival when she suddenly felt Ratatoskr jump, and immediately after noticed the return of normal air and gravity. When the creature then stopped moving entirely, she took a huge, deep breath (which mostly smelled of strawberry shampoo), and sighed in relief. That relief was short lived, however, vanishing as soon as she opened her eyes.

She was in complete darkness. She had only seen a darkness so black and total once before in her life, in the first moments after she had awakened in her coffin under six feet of dirt. Listening, she could hear the muffled echoes of their mount's footsteps coming back to her, telling her immediately that they were underground.

Buffy swallowed hard as her heart began to pound in her chest once again. While she had become uncomfortable being in overly confined spaces since she had awakened in her coffin, she was normally able to ignore it with the ease of a lifetime of overcoming her fears. Unfortunately, the disturbing journey, combined with the flashback opening her eyes in such darkness had given her, made it difficult to control herself.

“Fiat lux,” Willow said with a gesture as she conjured a floating ball of white light.

Buffy blinked against the sudden glare, taking her mind off of her barely contained terror by examining their surroundings. She had been correct she noticed, as she took in the glistening cave walls all around them. They were in a large chamber deep under the earth, with stalactites reaching down from the ceiling and stalagmites rising up from the floor like the jaws of a hungry predator. Buffy forced that thought away, bringing her breathing back under control as she realized that they were alone wherever they were.

“Huh,” Willow said. “I was expecting something... I dunno... _more_. Is it just me? I mean, this is some other cool dimension full of magic dwarves, and it just looks like any other cave. Yggdrasil was neato, but this is just a letdown.”

Buffy climbed down from Ratatoskr and pulled out a flashlight. It was small but quite bright, and she moved it around, taking in her surroundings quickly. “I've got a spare. Flashlight, I mean.”

Willow turned towards her friend and frowned. “Are you okay? You look pale. Not vampire pale, 'cause that would be really of the bad, but still. Paler than usual Buffy pale.”

“I'm fine,” she said, smiling stiffly. “Raring to find a dwarf.”

“If you're sure,” Willow said, eyeing her carefully. “And I don't need a flashlight.”

Buffy frowned. While a light spell wasn't normally dangerous, she was more concerned about Willow's dependance on magic. Even if she didn't use her power to perform dark or dubious tasks, using it unnecessarily was still a bad sign. She really hoped that her friend was correct, and that there was some way to prevent Willow from going dark eyed and veiny again. She really didn't want to kill her, even if she already had... time travel sucked, she decided firmly.

Willow reached into her pack and pulled out a small electric lantern, turning it on and dispelling her light. “Brought my own,” she said cheerfully.

“Right,” Buffy said, relieved. “What do we do about squirrely over here?”

The creature chittered with annoyance. “Don't call him squirrely,” Willow said reprovingly. Turning to Ratatoskr, she smiling brightly. “Thanks for your help! It was a lot of fun. I'll call soon when we need to leave again, okay?”

It chittered again, and then leapt back into the portal that still hung in the air. A moment later the gray patch faded away, leaving them stranded in the dark caverns. Buffy looked around uneasily, the cave formations creating strange shadows in the dim light, further unnerving the already anxious Slayer. She really didn't like being underground.

"We cannot go back," Willow said dramatically, gesturing towards the absent portal.

"What!" Buffy yelped. "I can't stay in some cave forever! I have to get back!"

"No, no," Willow said shaking her head. "I didn't mean you can't really go back, ever. I just meant, you know, Tolkein. Like the mines of Moria? I was being Gandalf."

"The who of the what now?" Buffy asked, lost.

“You really need to crack a book,” Willow said, shaking her head sadly.

“I read!” Buffy said defensively. At her friend's doubtful look, she shrugged. “They have Cosmo in the Land of Giles.”

“I bet he was so disappointed,” Willow said with a giggle. “Anyway, let's find us some dwarves! I can't wait. I wonder how thick their beards are? Do you think Santa-beards or Amish-beards?”

“I'm not an expert on the whole beardiness thing,” Buffy said delicately. “Or on dwarviness.”

Willow shrugged and quietly chanted a spell, conjuring another green mote of light, which danced in front of her like a firefly. “Take us to a dwarf who can fix Gram,” she said. The light hesitated for a moment, before leading the way into the darkness.

The two of them walked through the dark of the caverns for several hours. Everything appeared to be completely natural, with no signs of inhabitants or any kind of artificial workings whatsoever. The tunnels twisted and turned at random, making it easy to get lost, and occasionally they widened out into large chambers such as the one they had entered in. The only sounds were their echoing footsteps and the steady drip of water.

Eventually they entered another large chamber, and as they did so they were stunned by what they saw. Their lights caused the walls to light up with sparkles of color, and all around them were what appeared to be a field of delicate flowers. Buffy had never seen anything like them, and she couldn't help but approach to get a closer look.

“What are they?” Buffy asked as she examined one. Standing close by, she was shocked to see that it wasn't a flower at all, but rather something made of stone.

“Gypsum flowers,” Willow said. “It's a kind of rock formation. They happen in caves sometimes, but they're not common. And the walls look like they have some veins of crystals in them. That's pretty rare, and really pretty. It's pretty, isn't it?”

“Very,” Buffy said quietly. Look around, she found herself truly relaxing for the first time since she had left her dimension. She found it difficult to be anxious in a place with such striking natural beauty. Smiling slightly, she sighed and stood. “Still, we can't stay. Dragons don't slay themselves you know.”

“Be nice if they did,” Willow agreed.

“Put us out of business,” Buffy said. “'Course, 's not much of a business, what with the not getting paid and all.”

“Hence the bank robbery,” Willow said snidely.

Buffy walked on for a few minutes, before finally looking at her friend. “Yes. Hence the bank robbery. And you know what? I'd do it again. I chose to take those girls, and turn them into Slayers. Remember how much I used to complain about being destiny girl? Well, I did that. I did that to them. And if I have to rob banks to make sure they don't have to work someplace with a cow hat 'cause of what I did? I'm okay with that.”

“That just makes it okay,” Willow countered heatedly. “It was the easiest way to get what you want, so hey! Do whatever. You aren't above the law Buffy.”

“We're saving the world. I'm gonna ignore any law that gets in the way of that. Or is it only okay when you do it, miss hacks-a-lot?”

“I did that for you,” Willow said, glaring.

“And I did what I did for them,” Buffy said. “Do you see me living it up? Partying with the ill gotten gains? I have like, five pairs of shoes. Total. If I robbed banks for me, I'd have to have a whole castle just to store my shoes in. A closet-castle. Instead: five pairs.”

Willow smiled slightly at that. “Point. But, how much of our problems with the angry army people are 'cause of your sticky fingers?”

“Considering how they're workin' for Twilight?” Buffy asked. “Anywhere from all to none of the reason.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “Knowing you? That means you think that you're all the reason.”

“Doesn't mean I'm not,” Buffy said, looking away.

“Buffy, you probably feel guilty about Tara dying when Warren shot you,” Willow said. “And no matter what you think you saw in that vision, I don't blame you! Really. I mean, sometimes it feels like it was your fault, but that's just me being bad friend Willow. Not reasonable Willow. And I know it. So I don't really blame you, okay? Things happen, and they aren't all your, or anyone's, fault.”

“Why is this whole talk about my stuff?” Buffy asked suddenly as they reached the end of the glittering cavern. “'Cause me stealing stuff from insured banks wasn't the only visiony thing that happened that time.”

“Nothing to talk about,” Willow said shiftily.

“So the snake lady you were getting all... close to was nothing?” Buffy asked.

“Not nothing,” Willow said. “Just not a big deal. Compared to being all Slayers Eleven while I was gone. Didn't you beat up Warren and his pals for robbing banks with magic powers?”

“No shifting this blame game back to me miss shifty!” Buffy said firmly. “That wasn't nothing. What have you been doing? 'Cause you still won't give me a straight answer about anything you've been up to.”

“What's this really about?” Willow asked heatedly. “What's your problem with me been? I know things were awkward, but not this awkward. What happened? When did you get to be all disapprovey Buffy.”

“When did you start doing magic for everything again?” Buffy asked. “You aren't just over your fear of doing any little spell. You're now doing every little spell. It's the first thing you always come up with to do.”

“I'm not doing selfish magic,” Willow said defensively. “I'm doing magic to save the world. Or should we not have tried to fix Gram? Maybe let Sweden by an all dragons can eat buffet?”

“Maybe not, but I worry,” Buffy said. “Sometimes you seem less like my friend Willow, and more like this force of nature. You don't always seem to be using magic. You seem to be magic.”

“I changed,” Willow replied tersely. “People do, you know. I'm not the mousy little girl who was afraid of being noticed. And you aren't who you used to be either. How often are you the Buffy who made friends with the girl wearing clothes her mom picked out, and how often are you General Buffy?”

“I'm doing what I have to do,” Buffy answered defensively. “If I didn't take this seriously, if I wasn't the best leader I could be, then those girls would die. I made them Slayers, and it's my job to lead them. It's what I have to do. And you know what? I'm not bad at it.”

“And I'm doing what I have to do,” Willow said. “I absorbed so much magic... it's a part of me now. I can't just go back to being shy nerd Willow. Or even confident nerd Willow. I'm witchy Willow for life, just like you're Slayer Buffy. And if I wasn't, people would die for that too. You can't just say it's fine that you changed, but I have to stay the same forever. I'm not your sidekick Buffy!”

Buffy looked stricken for a moment, before suddenly the ground began to shake. “What's happening!” she shouted, staggering against a wall. They had left the larger chamber behind some time ago while arguing, and were now in a narrow passage.

“Earthquake!” Willow shouted. “Or, well, Svartálfa-quake, since we're not on earth.”

She was suddenly cut off at the shaking intensified, and the roof began to fall in. Rubble fell all around them, and the two women staggered as dust choked the air. A large rock hit Buffy on the shoulder, but her scream of pain was swallowed by the rumble of the collapsing cavern.

Running away from the weak roofed area, Buffy was barely able to keep her feet. She had tried to grab Willow, but in the end she couldn't reach her, and simply had to trust that she could take care of herself. Of course, given her magic, Buffy suspected that her friend would be more capable of making it through their situation than she was.

Buffy tripped on a crack in the floor, her flashlight falling out of her hand as she hit the ground. Rubble fell on top of her with bruising force, but after several seconds the collapse finally stopped. She lay still for a moment, buried under the rock, her heart pouding with fear. Then a scream caught in her throat, and she began to flail about, her movements panicked.

She was buried alive. Trapped under rubble from a cave in. In a dimension that seemed composed of little besides caverns, which meant that there may well have been no above ground at all. It was, simply put, terrifying.

Her panicked motions didn't calm as she pushed the last of the rubble off of her, pulling herself to freedom with broken nails and lungs full of dust. Coughing and gasping, she barely suppressed a whimper as her eyes struggled to make any sense of the pitch black darkness she found herself surrounded by. Her movements were jerky as she crawled around on bloodied knees, until finally she found her flashlight.

Turning it back on, her heart finally stopped racing as she took in her surroundings. She was at the edge of the collapse, with the tunnel in front of her having stayed free of rubble. Looking around, she saw no sign of her friend. “Willow!” Buffy shouted. “Can you hear me? Willow!”

She stood for a long moment, until her voice stopped echoing back to her. There was no other response. Buffy was all alone, trapped in the dark with no Willow, and no way home.

**Author's Notes**  
Brown Allree is a fairy horse that Buffy rode in the first story of this series. Fiat lux means 'let there be light' in Latin. I can't think of a more appropriate wording for a spell to create light than that.

The quote Willow says is from the Fellowship of the Ring, as is the Mines of Moria. Their argument repeatedly refers to the secrets revealed in the No Future For You arc of Season 8.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**Endless Night**

 

Buffy stared at the rubble for some time, before yelling for her friend even louder. Listening to the echoes, her eyes widened when she felt dust start to drift down upon her once again. She turned and ran, barely escaping another collapse as a dozen more feet of corridor fell in. Once she was clear by some distance she looked back again, her heart in her throat.

While she was angry and hurt by some of the things that had happened between her and Willow recently, the truth of the matter was that she still thought of Willow as her best friend. Her, Willow, and Xander should have been an inseparable team in her mind, and yet they had become divided since the fall of Sunnydale.

At the end of the day, Willow was family, and the main reason that she fought with her was her fear of losing her. After her visit to the future, she was terrified of Willow turning dark and veiny again, and this time without anyone being able to stop her. Having to kill her best friend, even an evil future version, had hurt her in ways she hadn't felt since the summer she had run to Los Angelus, when she was mourning having to do the same to her first lover.

She didn't know how to tell her friend her fears, and so she tried to question her about her magic usage without explaining why, an act which served only to anger the powerful witch. Now her feelings seemed trivial compared to the possibility of losing Willow, but there was nothing that she could do. The area was too unstable for her to even try to clear the tunnel, and even if she could it would take far too long to do so.

The only thing that she could do was trust Willow to have managed to escape and eventually find her again. Until then, she had to get moving, if only to get away from the unstable corridor. Under normal circumstances moving after having been separated wouldn't have been wise, but Willow's free use of magics recently would help her to be found even if she were to travel a great distance.

Resolved, Buffy took a deep breath and began to walk. Hours slowly passed, the walls seemingly coming closer and closer with every step. She was greatly relieved when she left the narrow passage and entered another enormous cavern.

At the center of the large natural chamber was a great, dark lake. Walking to its rocky shore, she looked down into the still waters, her light showing nothing at all. She slowly panned her flashlight across the lake, when off to the side she heard a splash.

Buffy jumped slightly, before pointing the light at the source of the sound. Whatever had caused it was long gone, leaving only diminishing ripples which spread across the waters. She waited for a long moment, but nothing seemed to move again.

More unnerved than she wanted to admit, she began to walk around the edge of the lake, having chosen a direction at random to travel in. After almost fifteen minutes she had begun to relax again, when she heard another splash.

Her light sought out the origin of the sound with all of her Slayer speed, and this time she caught a glimpse of something before it sank too deeply into the water. The source of the splash was a fish as long as her arm, with pale white scales, a head taller than the rest of its body, and no eyes. It looked extremely creepy, but it was reassuring to see such relatively normal lifeforms, especially as she was in a different dimension.

Buffy continued walking, and she had just reached another side passage, which she had begun to shine her light down, when she heard another, far louder splash behind her. It was accompanied by several more splashes, and the sound of panicked thrashing on the surface of the water. However, by the time she had turned and her light had pierced the darkness, all that there was to see was a large patch of spreading ripples.

She decided to take the side corridor, her dislike of confined spaces losing the battle with her desire to put as much distance between herself and whatever dwelled in the underground lake as possible. After another hour the passage widened into a smaller chamber, with two other paths leading from it. She paused at her choice, frowning slightly.

Before Buffy could decide what to do, her stomach rumbled, and she sat down against a cool wall, pulling out her canteen and some ration bars as she did so. Unwrapping her food, she wrinkled her nose in distaste at the terrible flavor. Sitting in a dark cave, with no one to speak with and nothing to look at, seemed to make it taste even worse than normal.

She was just beginning to clean up when she heard a scraping sound from the corridor she had come from. Shining her light into the darkness, she saw nothing concrete, although she thought she had seen some shadows shifting strangely for just a moment. Studying the empty corridor for a long time, she finally finished gathering her wrappers and stood up, ready to continue moving.

With a shrug she chose the left hand path for no other reason than it seemed to slope slightly upwards. While she knew that the dimension she was in might not even have a surface, heading up made her feel better. Alone, in a confined space, after nearly being buried alive, she knew that she needed everything that she could find to raise her spirits.

After a few minutes her sharp hearing caught a strange echo, and she stopped suddenly, her head tilted to the side as she struggled to hear anything. When she heard nothing she slowly turned around, her flashlight leading the way. Seeing only the empty passage, she closed her eyes for a moment and tried to reach out with her spidey-senses. She had never been particularly good at that, and something about the dimension she was in created a constant background buzz which made it even more difficult.

Giving up on her mystical senses, she opened her eyes and stared into the passage behind her for a long time, before finally sighing and turning back around. She had just begun her journey again when something hit her hard from behind. Her flashlight flew from her grip as she fell, and by the time she hit the stone floor it had broken, plunging her once again into absolute darkness.

From her hands and knees Buffy struck backwards with a sharp elbow at her attacker. The blow rocked her opponent, giving her space to wriggle free, although not without cost. Whatever was attacking her had a hide so tough that her attack numbed her lower arm slightly, drawing a pained grunt from her lips.

Free from her opponent's grasp, Buffy flipped to her feet and launched a low angled spin kick, the blow only slightly clipping the creature in the dark. Stepping forward, she launched three quick testing jabs, the attacks stinging her knuckles, but allowing her to find her foe. Setting herself, she launched a powerful roundhouse kick which knocked the creature back with a loud clatter.

It didn't take long to respond however, launching a punch of its own which she was unable to dodge, the blow hard enough to cause her ribs to creak and send her flying backwards into a stone wall, knocking the breath from her. Before she even had a chance to recover she began moving again, slipping sideways quickly, a choice which proved wise as the monster struck at her again, its blow slamming the wall hard enough to shatter stone, pelting Buffy with shards of rock.

She caught her breath and gathered herself for a moment, before finally resetting her defensive posture and listening closely for the sound of the creature. She kept her eyes closed as she focused, the false impressions her eyes would give her only likely to cause confusion in the total darkness. Unfortunately, her hearing gave her little aid, as the creature made no sound as it fought, even when she struck it.

Listening carefully, her only warning was a faint scraping sound as the monster moved towards her, letting her bring her arms up in a block that was sure to leave deep bruises for days to come. Following up on its attack, she stepping into its reach while drawing a dagger from her belt, before stabbing upwards with all of her might. The blade struck true, but the only sound aside from an impact like striking stone was the sound of her blade snapping in two.

Buffy jumped back, her move saving her head as she only received a glancing blow to her chin which still made her see stars. Feeling her steel dagger, she frowned and threw it to the ground when she realized that the blade was missing more than half of its length. “What are you,” Buffy said quietly as she tried to think of a plan.

Unfortunately, it was hard to think of a way to defeat an enemy when she didn't even know what it was. Her only clues were that it was silent, as hard as stone, and much stronger than she was. She couldn't even tell how large it was, or if it was bipedal or not. Into that blank slate her mind projected every demon she had ever read about that met those criteria, along with a hundred other monsters her imagination conjured up.

Fighting such an opponent would be difficult under normal circumstances, but it seemed to be far better adapted to the dark than she was. Normally when fighting blind she could rely upon her other senses, but it made almost no sound, not even any audible breathing to give away its positon. Furthermore, she had to keep a significant part of her concentration on not running into the narrow walls of the passage, which prevented her from maneuvering effectively.

As she considered whether she would be able to retreat in the dark, she found herself tackled once again. Pressed under its considerable weight, Buffy struggled, but found her self held down and unable to escape. She wasn't sure what the creature attacking her was, but she knew without a doubt that in mere moments she would be dead if she didn't act.

Gritting her teeth, Buffy reached up with one arm and pressed with all of her might against whatever was above her, the move giving her the inches that she needed to place her free hand on the hilt of her sword. Gram may have been broken, but her test at the burial mound had shown her that it was still sharper than almost any other sword she had ever seen. Drawing the abbreviated weapon, she grunted with effort as she sliced into the monster's belly.

Blood, thick and hot, splashed over her as the blade sank into the creature's stony flesh. Gritting her teeth, Buffy slowly dragged the weapon upwards, opening a longer and longer wound, soaking her in gore and viscera. The monster went rigid, and yet, despite being disemboweled, it still made not a single sound.

The monster jerk backwards, pulling itself free form Gram with a spray of blood, before dragging itself away into the dark. Buffy flipped to her feet, jumping forwards and stabbing with the broken blade, the magical weapon piercing deeply into the back of the creature. It responded with a quick backhand, the blow sending Buffy flying into another wall, dazing her for a long moment. By the time she recovered, she couldn't hear the creature anymore.

Buffy listened for a long moment to be certain, before digging into her pack for her spare flashlight, suddenly very glad that Willow hadn't needed to borrow it. Flipping it on, she shined her light around, and was relieved to find no creatures waiting to eat her. Battered as she was, she really didn't want to go a second round with the monster, even with its wounds. Besides, since she was in a different dimension, the creature wasn't able to hurt people, and if anything she was the dangerous extradimensional invader.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the state of her clothing, which had been thoroughly soaked in the monster's blood. The floor was covered in it as well, including a trail leading back the way that she had come... or at least the direction she thought that she had come from. It was difficult for her to tell in the dark.

The creature's blood was thick and black, like tar, and stank of sulfur and rot. Reaching into her backpack, she removed a container of moist towelettes and began to do what she could for her clothing. Unfortunately, the blood was sticky and didn't come off easily, and in the end she had to resign herself to cleaning only her skin and simply leaving her clothing covered with stinking black stains.

Buffy continued down the hallway she had been walking down, and after a while she heard a roaring noise ahead. Following the sound, she soon found herself in a large chamber with a high ledge on one side, with a river pouring over it as a waterfall. A lake stood at the center of the chamber in front of her, and a river slowly flowed out of the room down a narrow passage.

Just as she was contemplating which way to go she heard a loud shout and spun around, surprised at a light glowing on the shelf above her head.

 

* * *

 

When the ceiling began to collapse, Willow spent a moment creating a quick protective bubble around herself. By the time she did, she realized that she had become separated from Buffy. Moving quickly to try and escape the falling rocks, she soon found herself confused as to which way she had come from. Moving as quickly as she could, she headed in what she thought was the correct direction, thankful as she did for her protective bubble, as it was taking a pounding for her.

Once she was safely beyond the collapsed area, she paused for breath, looking around for her missing friend. “Buffy!” she called. “Buffy!”

After listening for a moment, Willow muttered a quick incantation, and was relieved when she was able to determine that Buffy was safe and sound, although a bit frightened. She tried to communicate telepathically, but had trouble connecting through the large amount of rubble. She considered methods that she could use to excavate the fallen rocks, but eventually decided that the ceiling was too unstable for her to try it. After frowning for a moment, she shrugged and cast another tracking spell. “Take me to Buffy Summers,” she told it. The conjured light bobbed and began to lead the way.

As she followed the corridor, she contemplated what had happened between her and her best friend. Things between them had been rough for a long time, but it was still almost physically painful to be fighting with Buffy. After some minutes of walking, she decided that, before they returned to their dimension, she would get to the bottom of things. She couldn't imagine a life without her best friend in it, and she would fight for that friendship.

Before long she found herself back in the room with the beautiful rock flowers, although they had lost their luster as worry for Buffy churned in her gut. They were in a strange dimension that was only a single step above being a hell dimension, and being a demon magnet like the Slayer in such a place was extremely dangerous. She knew her friend could take care of herself, but she still worried.

The hallway her tracking spell led her down wound slowly upwards, and as she travelled she found herself growing hotter and hotter. At first she had thought that she was sweating from the physical exertion, but before long she realized that the cavern itself was heating up. She came on guard, however, when she heard a strange whistling sound.

Cocking her head, she contemplated it, but didn't recognize the noise from any of her encounters with demons. Shrugging, she pulled up some of her power, readying it to quickly attack or shield if whatever was making the sound proved hazardous. Slowly walking, she was surprised by what she finally saw.

Around a bend in the passage was a crack in the wall which was venting a significant amount of steam. While she was relived to discover that the sound wasn't caused by an as yet unidentified species of demon, she was more concerned than ever for Buffy's safety. While she could, and did, perform spells to protect herself from such environmental hazards, if the Slayer found her way blocked by such a thing, she would have little choice but to rush through it, accepting possibly serious injury as she did.

Easily bypassing the natural steam vent, Willow continued to sweat as the air grew steadily hotter. Eventually, she saw a dull red glow ahead, and moved towards it cautiously. Slowly she made her way to a large chamber, at the center of which was an enormous pool of molten lava, which was both the source of the dull glow and the searing heat.

Moving cautiously into the room, her eyes widened in surprise as a giant creature slowly rose from the center of the pool of lava. It was an enormous humanoid figure, with a wide, barrel chest, dark skin, and three ugly heads. All six bulging red eyes focused in on her, and unsettling grins spread their lips to reveal maws full of cruel fangs.

“What's this then?” the head on the left asked.

“Dinner p'raps?” asked the one on the right.

“She does have a certain quality of apparent deliciousness,” the middle agreed with a refined accent.

Willow blinked in surprise, and then blushed slightly. “Me? No. I'm probably not very good eating at all.”

“Don' sell yerself short, luv,” the left head said. “I wouldn't pass on ya fer a snack.”

“That's very kind of you to say,” Willow started, before shaking her head sharply. “Wait a minute! I don't care how I taste. You're not eating me, mister!”

“Misters, I should say,” the middle head said. “While I may be unpleasantly conjoined with these unrefined ruffians, we are in fact of separate minds, and therefore I should think that we need to be adressed in the plural.”

“Sorry,” Willow said, smiling nervously. “Anyway, I'm just looking for a friend, so if you don't mind I'll just go on out of your way-”

“No can do, luv,” the left head said. “We're 'ungry, and you showed up 'ere right on time for a bit o' eatin'.”

“Dinner,” the head on the right agreed, nodding.

“Yes, I should say so,” the middle head said. “Terribly sorry, but we are a bit famished. I'm certain you undertand.”

“Actually, I'm pretty hungry myself,” Willow agreed. “How 'bout I give you some of my food, and we all call it a day?”

“I truly am sorry,” the middle head said regretfully. “But I'm afraid we're going to have to eat you. You do understand, don't you?”

“Understand my foot,” Willow said. “If you don't get out of my way... I'll do something really terrible. To you.”

The three headed monster laughed. “What couldja do, scream as we crunch ya?” the right head mocked.

Willow frowned and walked out onto the lava, standing on it without being burned with a simple pulse of magic. Reaching down into the flow, she easily tapped into the great power that the molten rock contained, drawing it into herself as her hair turned white. Slowly outward from her positon the lava transformed into black rock, until nearly the entire pool had been drained into solidity.

“What you do!” the right head roared.

“I say, this is most distressing,” the center head said. “Any chance you could put that back the way it was, my dear?”

“How 'bout no,” Willow said, her voice hard. Pointing at the giant, her released the power she had absorbed as a single, overpowered spell. “Freeze.”

Eyes bulging in shock and fear, the the giant quickly turned blue, before becoming rimed with frost. The temperature in the room sharply declined, until even the steam from the corridor outside began to precipitate out as snow and hail in the confined space. Shivering, Willow smirked at her victim. “Cool,” she said, before pouting. “Where's an audience when I need one.”

Walking past her victim, she continued in the direction her tracker was leading her, stopping only for a quick meal of rations. She hadn't eaten them very often, as she had only gone into the field for short excursions in the past, and her face twisted in a grimace of disgust as she tried it. “Yuck!” she said, putting it back away only half eaten.

She continued on as the hallway returned to normal cave conditions, until she reached a place where her passage crossed paths with a fast moving river. The tracking spell directed her to follow it, and she did so for more than an hour. Eventually she could hear the sound of a waterfall, and was unsurprised when she stepped out onto a raised shelf in a large chamber. Her eyes lit up at what she saw below.

“Buffy!” she called happily. She smiled as she saw her friend spin around quickly, looking up at her in shock.

“Wills!” Buffy said, smiling. The Slayer looked battered, but neither could stop grinning as Willow flew down and gave her friend a hug.

No matter what happened, Willow decided as she held Buffy, they would always be friends, even if she had to beat that into her stubborn friend's head.

**Author's Notes**  
The creature Buffy fought wasn't a specific monster. I researched for a while, but couldn't come up with anything that fit exactly what I was looking for. Caves were full of monsters to the Norse, however, and finding one here was appropriate; I just couldn't find a specific one that worked for me. I decided to leave it descriptionless after reading some of Beowulf, where the monster Grendel never really gets much of a description either.

Willow was fighting a Jotunn. They often had fangs, claws, multiple heads, and so on, and many ate human flesh. Some were adapted for life in frozen conditions, others for blazing hot, although most preferred relatively normal places. This one was obviously fond of very hot environments.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**The Mines of Svartálfaheim**

 

“Are you allright?” Willow asked as she examined her friend. “You look a bit... ruffled.”

“Thanks,” Buffy said dryly. “I'll take ruffled. Way better than I really look.”

“Well... it's not too bad. You know, for someone who took a beating and got covered in tar, and other stuff like... what are those? Intestiney bits?”

Buffy glanced down and flicked some dried viscera from her pants that she had missed during her earlier cleaning. “Something gross, anyway. How 'bout you? Run into any trouble?”

Willow shrugged. “Nothin' I couldn't handle.”

“Same here,” Buffy agreed nodding. “Was just all worried-like, what with the collapse and the last words being a dumb fight.”

Willow smiled slightly. “Yeah. If you'd left it like that, I would have had to... had to... well, I'd have dragged you back to life again, just so that those weren't our last words!”

Buffy smiled grimly. “Preferably after digging me out of their this time.” At Willow's suddenly pained expression Buffy laughed nervously. “See, that was Slayer humor. Gallows humor, that's our funny. Anyway, don't we have a short beardy guy to find? Or something else, equally full of awkwardy pushing pastedness.”

“Right,” Willow agreed, clearing her throat and avoiding meeting Buffy's eyes. Muttering an incantation, she created another tracking mote to find a dwarf capable of fixing Gram. They both frowned as it point towards the waterfall. “I guess we need to go under it.”

“Watch out for creepy fish,” Buffy said as she walked around the lake to the base of the falls.

“Creepy fish?”

“Yup,” Buffy affirmed with a nod. “Way creepy. All with the eyelessness and the way-too-pale. They looked more like somethin' to slay than fillet.”

“Right, cave fish,” Willow said, nodding. “Which, given, could be pretty creepy. Um... one didn't do that to you, did it?”

Buffy glanced back down at her clothing's current state of disrepair. “No. Well, I don't think so.”

“You don't think so?” Willow asked.

“I didn't get a good look at it,” Buffy said sheepishly. “Or, you know, any look at it. It kinda hit me from behind, and broke my flashlight. Had to do the blind fighting thing. Which, incidentally? Overrated for fighting underground baddies. Cheating, probably eyeless, baddies.”

Buffy was glad to find a narrow path that she could squeeze through between the cave wall and the waterfall without getting too wet, and soon she found herself in a wide, slick passage behind the falls. Shaking the cold water from their hair and clothing, they walked for some time in silence, neither sure how to begin the conversation they both felt they needed to have, now that they were out of mortal danger. It was much easier to insist to yourself that you would talk things out when you weren't sure if your loved one would make it, than it was to actually do it when you had found them whole.

Willow was the first one to notice the subtle changes around them, although it took her some time until she was certain. “Hey, Buffy, look!”

Buffy followed her friend's finger, which was pointing at a part of the wall. “What?”

“Tool marks!” Willow said, excitedly. “Not just any tool marks, either. Looks like someone took a sample from the wall. Probably a prospector.”

“Okay...” Buffy said, her voice trailing off leadingly.

Willow rolled her eyes. “That means someone did some mining near here at some point. And dwarves? Everything says that they're awesome with the mining. So we're getting close.”

“Good,” Buffy said, sighing. “I reached my lifetime's worth of cave wandering about three hours ago. Actually, I think I hit it my first year slaying, but if I hadn't? Definitely have now.”

“Oh come on, it's not that bad,” Willow cajoled. “Some of those caves were pretty, like the one with the gypsum flowers, remember? And the underground waterfall was pretty nifty, right? And, ooh! We're in an ancient dwarven mine! Dwarven. Mine.”

“Unless they've got shoe shops? Wasted trip.”

Willow pouted. “But... but... dwarven mine!”

“No shoes, no interest,” Buffy said repressively.

It wasn't much longer before the tunnel became larger and more regular, and even Buffy could easily tell that it had been tunneled by tool wielding creatures. Eventually iron latticework started to support the roof in some places, and small glowing stones placed at wide intervals provided some basic lighting. Most of the tunnel was fairly uniform in size, although every once in a while they entered large, hollowed out rooms, which had obviously once housed veins of ore and precious minerals. In a few places these raw materials still sparkled in the walls, but for the most part such things had been completely harvested.

Eventually they reached a large, round chamber, with four passages leading from it, each heading in directions ninety degrees from the previous one. The ceiling overhead was so high above that even shining her flashlight straight up, Buffy's keen Slayer vision didn't allow her to see it. At the center of the room was a raised platform, with several long chains connected to it, extending into the distance above.

The two women approached it, examining the stone platform with interest. Some of the chains were connected to a metal grill that lay on the platform, while others passed through it to connect to the stone itself. A small box with a lever extending to waist height sat to one side of the metal grill.

“Looks like some kinda elevator,” Buffy said after a long moment.

Willow nodded in agreement, then examined her tracking mote carefully. “I think we need to take it,” she finally pronounced. “It wants us to go up.”

“Who am I to argue with a green spark,” Buffy said dryly. “Let's just take the rickety deathtrap. Sounds like fun.”

“We could fly,” Willow offered.

“A world of no,” Buffy said, shaking her head rapidly. “Rickety death trap it is.”

Climbing on board, they grabbed onto the chains that were attached to the lift itself, and then pulled the lever. Chains rattled and the platform shook, before slowly beginning to rise. Before long the process speeded up, until they felt wind blowing past their faces as they shot upwards through the dark.

The journey was deeply unsettling, as even the slightest motion on either of their parts caused the lift to begin rocking back and forth. Even when they did stand perfectly they were still shaken roughly about by the vibrations of the device. Finally, to both of their relief, the lift began to slow down, and their flashlights showed a narrow opening above, which led into a larger chamber. When they entered the chamber, the lift came to a halt, allowing the two shaken women to get their bearings at last.

The room they were now in was much fancier than the mines below had been. The walls were perfectly smooth stone, with gentle arches and a curved roof overhead. Numerous lights were scattered around the walls, and a huge stone double door was the only apparent exit from the room.

Walking up to the doors, the two women examined them for a moment, before Buffy shrugged and grabbed the handle. She grunted with the effort, but slowly the door swung open, revealing another hallway, very similar in design to the room they were standing in. Walking inside, Buffy closed the door carefully, before looking at her friend. “I'm thinkin' this is some kinda living area, 'stead of the mines we were in.”

“Yeah,” Willow agreed with a nod. “Look at the craftsmanship! That's sedimentary rock, but its smooth as glass. I've never seen anything like it, and this is just a hallway leading to a mine! Can you imagine what their homes look like, or their fancy places?”

“Prob'ly pretty fancy,” Buffy agreed blandly as they walked down the hallway.

The mote of light led them through a maze of twisting passages, and without it they would have long ago become completely lost. Finally it led them into a round room, with a stone door along one wall. The tracking spell pointed at the door for a moment, before winking out.

“This's gonna be great,” Willow said excitedly. “A real, live dwarf.” Unable to contain herself any longer, she knocked rapidly on the door. She all but vibrated as they waited, and finally, after long moments, they heard the door unlock before slowly being opened.

The man who answered the door did have a thick black beard and long black hair, but that was where the resemblance to the dwarf Willow had been expecting ended. He was nearly six feet tall, with a thin build, and skin so pale that he looked like a vampire. His black eyes glittered coldly as he glared down at them. “Whattaya want?” he growled.

Willow's jaw had been dropped from the moment the door had opened, and she tried to rally after the man had spoken. “Yeah... um, I was wondering, um, are you a dwarf?”

The man snorted. “You c'n call me that. Name's Eitri.”

“But... but you aren't short!” Willow protested. “Or stocky! Or Scottish sounding.”

“No, but blondie over there is short 'nough for the both, eh?” Eitri said. “An' why would I sound like a Scotsman? That makes no kind of sense.”

“What!” Buffy squawked. “I am not short. It's everyone else's too tall.”

“Keep tellin' yerself that, blondie, and someday even you might come to believe it,” he grunted, scratching his belly. “Now, you got business, or should I get back to my drink?”

“Least they got that part right,” Willow muttered, her nose wrinkling at the thick stink of too much alcohol that came from his breath.

“We need your help,” Buffy said.

“Right then,” Eitri said, stepping aside. “Come on in."

The inside of the house was even fancier than Willow had dreamed. The walls were covered in decorations so intricate and detailed that, despite being simple carved stone, they put any painting she had ever seen to shame. Most of them depicted scenes of blacksmithing and war, along with pictures of a variety of demons and monsters.

“Take a seat,” Eitri said, taking a huge swig of his glass of mead. He then leered at them in a manner that made both women want to scrub themselves clean... with sandpaper. “P'raps ol' Eitri c'n give you two somethin' good?”

Buffy shuddered. “A world of no. Even _think_ that, and I promise, you won't be able to again. Ever.”

Eitri considered that for a moment, before leering again. “Might be worth it, seein' how you'd have to handle it to do anythin' 'bout it.”

“I don't, buster,” Willow said, raising her hand and causing it glow with purple sparks. “So get that idea out of your head, right now. Eww.”

“What are you here fer,” Eitri asked with a pout. It was very disturbing to watch a man with a thick beard pout.

“We need you to fix my sword,” Buffy said, placing her hand on the hilt of Gram.

Eitri scratched himself, before taking another large swig of mead. “Naw. Don't think I will.”

“You missed the 'need' part,” Buffy said. “As in: no choice.”

“Always got a choice,” Eitri said philosophically. “That's the thing 'bout free will, ain't it?”

“And I've always got the free will choice to make you sing soprano,” Willow said, smiling brightly.

“Talk like that, don't 'xactly make me more inclined to help,” he grumbled.

“Look, I said we needed it fixed,” Buffy said. “Which means we're willing to offer anything that's reasonable. 'Cause we need it, and you can do it.”

“I c'n do it,” Eitri agreed. “How 'bout you two take me up on...”

Willow fired a bolt of purple magic, which shot from her hand and struck the chair between Eitri's legs. He gulped as he looked down at the large, smoking hole inches from his crotch. “Right. Not that then.”

“What would it take – as in, in terms that won't get you sliced 'n diced – for you to fix it?” Buffy asked.

Eitri leaned back in his seat. “Why would I want to? Some cruddy third rate sword? My brother an' I, we made Mjollnir. Nothing you have could be remotely interesting next to that.”

“It's not just some cheap sword!” Willow objected. “Regin was a dwarf, and he reforged it! And it was originally made for Odin by Wayland the Smith! Wait. You made Mjollnir? Wow! I mean... Mjollnir!”

“Regin worked it?” Eitri asked curiously, puffing out his thin chest at Willow's gushing. “An' Wayland? Never met a human who could work a smithy as well as him, it's true. Hmm... it might be a project of some interest after all. It wouldn't happen to be Gram, would it?”

“Yup,” Buffy said, drawing the broken sword.

Eitri eyed the weapon professionally. “I see why you want it fixed. You got all the pieces?”

“Think so,” Buffy said as she dumped the fragments out of the sheath and onto his table.

“'S a nice old sword, but why are you wantin' it fixed up? Goin' to another world, dealing with a dwarf... that's not the sorta thing you'd do unless you were a fool or desperate. Which is it?”

“I guess... the second, kinda?” Willow said. “The dragon Fafnir is going to attack our world. We need the sword to slay him, so it's kind of important.”

“You? Slay a dragon? How do you plan to track it down?”

Buffy shrugged. “Won't have to do too much tracking. Just wait in Sweden at the starting line and keep him from getting all rampagey.”

“So, you don't know where his lair is?” Eitri asked, his eyes sparkling with avarice.

Buffy examined him for a long moment, recognizing his expression, although it took her a bit to figure out what had caused it. When she did it took everything she had to contain her smirk. “Yup,” she began innocently. “When we slay him, he won't be able to go back to his big ol' lair. All that gold and jewels... just left to rot, since we'd have no way of ever finding it. 'Course, if we can't kill him, it won't matter, since he'd be there to protect it...”

“Hmm,” Eitri said. “I suppose I'm not too busy right now. I won't mind seein' some of Wayland's ol' work.”

“So you'll fix it then?” Willow asked excitedly.

“No,” Eitri said, shaking his head. “Only way I could would be to have my brother with me. But he was taken by trolls. If he were somehow rescued, I'd be able to fix it in a jiffy, but...”

“Should dwarves really say jiffy?” Willow muttered. The others ignored her.

“Well, I guess if someone were to rescue him, then maybe it could be fixed,” Buffy said innocently. “And then I'd be all busy doing the Slayer thing, so no time for long, pointless treasure hunts.”

“Yup,” Eitri said, nodding with a straight face. “If someone were to look for him, he'd be held by trolls in Járnviðr. That's in Jotunheim, you know.”

Buffy looked at Willow, who shrugged. “We'll need to take Ratatoskr again, but it's not much more of a trip than the one here.”

“Great,” Buffy said unenthusiastically. “We'll be back soon.”

“Take your time,” Eitri said, taking another huge swig of mead. “They probably ain't eatin' him or anythin'. Too gristly.”

Buffy and Willow left his home, pausing outside his door and looking at each other. Willow pouted and spoke. “What a rip off. I mean, I've been looking forward to meeting a real live dwarf ever since I found out magic was real, and when I do... This sucks.”

“He looked a lot like a vampire,” Buffy said thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” Willow agreed. “Still, we can't stake him, 'cause he's the only one who can fix Gram.”

Buffy made a face. “Yeah. We have to go on a quest for him, and we gave up an entire dragon hoard of treasure just to get it fixed.”

“And we already had to fight a draugr, and loot his tomb, which means you got cursed too,” Willow pointed out helpfully.

“Great, I'd been trying to repress. Anyway, the point is: this sword better be awesome. Like, really awesome. If it can't cut a tomato, and a can, and maybe make some julienne fries, I'm gonna be pissed.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “An ancient magic sword, and you'd be satisfied with a Ginsu.”

“It's not my fault they have so many commercials,” Buffy defended. “I barely have time for TV anymore, and I still want to buy a set. You think maybe they're evil, with some kinda mind control thingie makin' them look so good?”

“Nope,” Willow said as she pulled out a piece of chalk. “I think you just stay up too late watching infomercials. They have them on at night, 'cause sleepy people buy stupid stuff. Like anything on that late. Now I've gotta concentrate, or we might try for Ratatoskr and get Hrungnir instead, and that would be of the bad.”

“Wouldn't want that,” Buffy agreed dryly as she watched her friend work. A few minutes later she was climbing on the back of the giant green squirrel, and the two women departed for the land were the trolls lived.

As they travelled, Buffy couldn't shake the niggling feeling that she was forgetting something very important involving the homeland of the trolls.

 **Author's Notes**  
While the name 'dwarf' has become very popular for a certain kind of creature in Norse mythology, the oldest accounts don't ascribe many of the traits we would expect from that term. The original dwarves were never described as short, only as having dark hair and beards, corpse-pale skin, and needing to live underground as they would burn up in the sun. Germanic folklore also had a different creature that more resembles modern dwarves, and somewhere along the way the two creatures apparently merged in the stories. In fact, the Prose Edda seems to indicate that dwarves and svartálfar (which is to say, black elves or 'dark elves') are one and the same.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**A Dark Forest**

 

Ratatoskr, with Buffy and Willow clinging to its back, emerged into a clearing in the middle of a vast, dark forest. Towering over their heads were great evergreen trees climbing hundreds, or even thousands, of feet into the air. It was cold enough for their breath to fog, and the trees and ground were covered in a thin blanket of snow. The sun was low in the sky in the distance, although it wasn't so low as to be dark quite yet.

Buffy dismounted the giant green squirrel, followed by Willow, who smiled and thanked the strange creature before it disappeared. The Slayer took several deep, bracing breaths, her spidey-senses reeling unpleasantly, giving her a headache and no useful information. Svartálfaheim had had a steady buzz to her senses that kept her from feeling anything useful, but the dull roar of Jotunheim was an order of magnitude less pleasant.

Willow smiled and picked up a pair of pinecones from the ground, muttering a quick incantation over them. They began to glow, until a flickering blue flame surrounded each of them, although they didn't burn her hand. “Here we go,” she said brightly. “This'll keep us warm. This place is no California. Heck, it's not even Scotland!”

Buffy eyed the conspicuous magic dubiously, before taking her pine cone with a sigh. While she didn't like Willow's casual spellcraft, she wasn't about to turn down something to take the edge off of the chill. She may have spent the previous year and more in Scotland, but she was still a California girl at heart, and the dimension that they were in was even colder than the mission that she had run in Saint Petersburg the previous winter.

“So, creepy forest, big trees,” Buffy said. “This is gonna be so much fun, I can tell.”

“Yup,” Willow agreed. “Two city girls, alone in the woods in a hell dimensiony place. What could go wrong?”

At that moment, a great howling arose. The call echoed from tree to tree through the forest, and was soon answered by other cries around the area. The heavy woods muffled the sound, making it difficult to pick out exactly where the cries were coming from, but it was obvious that the wolves were scattered all around them.

The two women exchanged a look, before Buffy rolled her eyes. “Well, at least this won't be boring. And for the record? Don't tempt fate with sarcasm.”

Willow nodded in agreement, before conjuring another tracking spell. “Find the brother of Eitri,” she told it. The mote of green light bobbed for a moment, before moving towards the forest. The two women followed it into the trees, the snow of the clearing crunching under their boots.

The great boughs overhead were so thick that even with the blue flames in their hands it was difficult to see any great distance. The soft loam underfoot had little snow, with only the occasion flake drifting down onto their heads. Even their footsteps were muffled as they moved through the dense trees, and the world grew steadily darker as the sun invisibly set.

After a little under an hour a wolf howled again, this time from behind, and with a hungry edge to it that had been absent from the earlier call. The two women exchanged looks as wolves began to cry eagerly all around them, although still some distance off. Despite themselves they began to move more quickly, Buffy fingering a knife and Willow gathering power.

It was ten minutes later when the first wolf arrived. It was larger than a horse, with thick black fur and red eyes that glowed in the dark. It came bounding out of the trees along the path that they had taken, howling and snarling, with drool foaming at the corners of its fanged maw.

Buffy reacted first, spinning around at its hungry cry, her knife already tightly gripped before she even finished her spin. She could tell at a glance that the wolf, if something so large and fell could possibly be called simply a wolf, had picked out Willow to be its prey, bounding towards the witch before she was even aware of its presence.

Buffy answered the wolf's snarl with one of her own as she jumped between it and her friend. Bracing herself, she raised her knife as the predator changed trajectories and lunged for her instead, its fangs bared as it flew towards her throat. They came together with a great crash, tumbling over and over again as the huge animal knocked her flying, its great mass easily overcoming her supernatural strength.

Buffy rolled with her fall, one hand wrapping around the beast's furry throat to keep its teeth away from her own neck, while her blade stabbed upwards into its gut. They bounced and tumbled, predatory gazes locked on each other as long claws scraped her side, countered over and over again by fierce steel thrusts. Finally their motion came to stop with Buffy sitting astride the dying beast, its spittle turned red and bubbling from repeatedly punctured lungs.

Buffy climbed to her feet, ignoring the slowly dying wolf and her own sluggishly bleeding wounds as she took in her surroundings. All around them in the dark bright red eyes gleamed hungrily, as the pack of wolves slowly crept closer, eager for the rich meal that they could smell before them. Buffy slowly shifted closer to Willow, her grip on her blade slick with blood, her eyes slowly moving from shadow to shadow as she watched the enormous creatures circling ever more tightly around them.

Willow picked up another pinecone from the the ground, and then spoke a single word in a dead tongue. The pinecone burst into a great flame, white hot and brighter than a flare, before she tossed it into the trees at one of the larger wolves her spell had illuminated. The flame burst into a great blaze, consuming the wolf from snout to tail, its last pained howl trailing off almost immediately as fire took its lungs.

The gleaming eyes and dim shapes that only a Slayer could see between the trees withdrew quickly, leaving the two women standing in an empty clearing. Only the dead wolf next to Buffy and the campfire sized blaze that remained of the other gave any sign that they weren't alone in the woods. Despite the sudden silence both women remained on edge, ready for anything.

The only response was a sudden howl, greater and deeper than any that they had ever heard before. The cry was a challenge, and some primal part of Buffy, some instinct driven by the Slayer need to be the apex predator, called for a response almost before she could think about it. When the wolf howl died off, she answered with a cry of her own.

Her own shout was deafeningly loud, full of contempt and wrath, declaring her dominance for all to hear. A moment later all of the remaining wolves howled, but they suddenly lacked the confidence that they had had before. The deeper, lead wolf did not respond.

Willow looked at Buffy, her brow creased with concern. “What was that?”

Buffy shrugged, wincing slightly as the motion pulled at her many scratches. “Seemed the thing to do.”

“The thing to _do_?” Willow asked incredulously. “You... you acted like... like...”

She trailed off as Buffy's eyes met hers. “Look, that call? Don't ask how I know, 'cause knowing this is pretty wiggy, but that call was that wolf saying 'I'm the alpha'. Which he's not, not when I'm around. I'm the Slayer. _The_ Slayer. No wolf, no matter how big or demony is going to push any Slayer around.”

“You've never acted this way before...” Willow said, her voice trailing off uncomfortably.

“You're not the only one who can change. I checked the records, when we cracked some of the backup vaults open. I'm the oldest Slayer ever. And every year? I don't just get more skilled, though that too, but I'm getting stronger, tougher, faster... and more Slayery. And in the past? I'd have hid it. I tried so hard to deny I was anything but normal, whatever that is. If it meant pretending to be like everyone else, even if it hurt, then I would. But you know what? Being the Slayer is normal now. I can act like a Slayer, and that just means I'm like all the other Slayers.”

Willow smiled slightly. “I'm happy for you.”

“Huh?” Buffy sputtered.

Willow grinned. “What? Just 'cause we're fighting doesn't mean I don't love you. In a friendy kind of way, 'cause even if you are experimenting with impressionable young lesbians, you so aren't on my list. Anyway, I'm glad you've found yourself. Denying who you are is always of the bad.”

“Thanks Wills,” Buffy said, blushing as she realized that she had underestimated her friend so badly. They really did need to talk things through. She opened her mouth to tell Willow about her experience in the future, when she was interrupted by more wolf howls.

“We probably should get moving,” Willow said. “I don't know about you, but I'm a bit tired, and I don't want to have to fight an army of giant wolves out in the open.”

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed. “We should find a place that we can build a good fire and get some rest. Just 'cause I'm top dog, doesn't mean I want to fight a pack.”

The two women moved warily, keeping their eyes peeled, until they found a small rocky ledge that they could huddle under, out of the snowfall. It would also make it impossible for them to be snuck up on from behind, and with a large fire they might be able to rest unmolested. Moving quickly, they gathered a pile of fallen branches and placed some in front of the overhang, and with a quick spell Willow lit a brightly burning fire.

Willow leaned back and soon fell asleep, her many uses of magic that day having tired her out. Buffy yawned and sat next to her friend, leaning close to the fire and keeping her eyes peeled for the possible return of the wolves. Even with the fire, she was sure that they would return eventually.

Hours slowly passed, with Buffy feeding fresh wood into the fire as she struggled to stay warm in the cold watches of the night. Every once in a while she would see gleaming red eyes in the dark, or a shadowy shape just behind the closest trees. To keep herself awake she grabbed a large branch and pulled out her knife, before slowly carving a set of stakes. It was more difficult than she had been expecting, as the wood, despite having fallen from an evergreen, was the hardest she had ever seen. It took a significant amount of her Slayer strength to even whittle at it with her steel combat knife.

When the attack came it happened so suddenly that Buffy actually froze for a moment, before a lifetime of experience and training took over, sending her to her feet while throwing her newest stake all in one motion. The sharpened wood sailed through the air, taking the closest wolf in its huge red eye, sinking all the way through the socket and into the beast's brain. It fell like a puppet with its strings cut, dead too suddenly to even make a sound.

With the vanguard wolf dead, the others began to bark and howl, and Buffy jumped forward to meet the first, her dagger taking it off center in its chest as she crashed into it, sending them to the ground with the Slayer on top. She reared back and stabbed again and again, before standing to meet the next closest.

The next attacks came from her flanks, as the wolves, having seen how quickly she had managed to dispatch the first few, decided to switch tactics, snapping at her in quick hit and run strikes. Buffy was pushed to her limits keeping her three horse sized attackers at bay, employing kicks and controlled slashes with her knife to hold off enemies relentlessly seeking to hamstring her. Eventually she realized that she had to change tactics, throwing her dagger into the head of the wolf in front of her, before spinning and diving on one at her right, wrapping her arms around the surprised beast, and jerking its head to the side with a bone breaking crack.

The fire suddenly flared up brighter than the sun, with huge sparks of white flame bursting off of it and flying in every direction. Where the sparks struck trees or ground they simply burned out, but when they touched wolves they stuck and burned, ignoring any attempt to be put out as they slowly spread, killing the beasts and consuming them utterly. Buffy finally blinked her eyes clear enough to see Willow standing behind the fire, her hair white and her arms in the air as the flames continued spewing white sparks of death.

The alpha wolf, which still hadn't shown itself, howled its deep cry once more, and the surviving wolves turned and ran, fleeing their fiery doom. Buffy pushed herself to her feet, pulling her dagger from the skull of a wolf that she had killed before slowly walking back to Willow's side. The campfire slowly died back down to normal levels, and with it the witch's hair returned to its normal shade of red.

“What a wakeup call,” Willow said, smiling at Buffy. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she replied. “Neat trick.”

Willow shrugged. “Fire is easy to manipulate. I could have done something like that, but simpler... probably before facing Adam. I didn't actually learn it until I spent time with the Coven, but still, not too hard. Do you think they'll be back?”

“Oh yeah,” Buffy said nodding. “The leader still hasn't tried his luck. Probably give it a try when we're all settled down again.”

“Great,” Willow huffed. “How am I supposed to settle down when I know more are coming?”

Buffy smirked and sat beside her friend. “Then you can take watch for a couple hours. Even Slayers need a little shut eye.”

Willow watched incredulously as her friend immediately fell asleep. She shook her head, unable to believe that Buffy could do that so easily when they were in such danger. Looking around, she shivered with more than the cold as she saw the red gleaming eyes in the darkness, and although she couldn't see them clearly, she thought that she saw black patches darker than the night slinking between the trees. She suddenly wondered how she had fallen asleep in the first place.

After a couple of cold, lonely hours, Buffy woke up with a yawn. “How long was I out?”

“Almost three hours,” Willow said, her voice hushed. “You could sleep more if you want.”

“Nah,” Buffy said, standing and stretching with a huge yawn. “Slayer stamina. That's enough sleep.”

Willow frowned. “I don't have to sleep. I know this spell, well, you shouldn't do it all the time, but every once in a while it doesn't hurt to go without.”

Buffy had been feeding the fire, but she paused when she heard that. “You don't need to. I don't get much more than that a night normally, anyway. 'Sides, you should save your strength for when we really need it.”

“Maybe,” Willow agreed with a yawn. “Still, if you need more sleep...”

“I'm fine,” Buffy insisted. Willow finally nodded and leaned back against the stone wall at the back of the ledge, although it was some time before her breath evened out and she slowly dozed off. Buffy smiled at her friend, although it seemed that every time they talked, she found a new use of magic to be concerned about.

Buffy spent most of the night sitting beside Willow, keeping an eye on the woods and occasionally adding more branches to the campfire. When she would get too cold she would stand, stomping her feet slightly before taking a stroll around the camp area, her every sense on alert for any attack. She didn't expect them to launch a raid while she was up and on guard, but better to be safe than sorry.

When the attack did come it happened without warning. Just as the sky had begun turning gray with the false dawn, the dark furred wolves came bursting out of the trees, bearing down on the two women. Buffy jumped to her feet and pulled her dagger, ready for anything.

Anything except the sheer scope of the creature that appeared out of the forest. The alpha wolf was a wolf the same way that a sabertooth tiger was a cat. Like the others it had black, bristly fur, glowing red eyes, and a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. Unlike the others, it was nearly twice as large as an elephant, with a mouth capable of swallowing a person whole.

For all of her experience, Buffy couldn't contain her involuntary gasp as she locked gazes with the monster's uncomfortably intelligent eyes. It snarled menacingly, before howling a bone rattling challenge. From the deepest, most primal parts of her being, Buffy responded in kind.

Then the other wolves were upon them. Buffy leapt forward to stab one wolf in the head, but even as she pulled her knife free the others swept past her, intent on attacking Willow instead, while the alpha bore down on her, growling like a tractor engine. Buffy looked down at her tiny weapon, and then back up at the creature, which had fangs longer than a sword. “I'm gonna need a bigger weapon.”

Willow had been pulled to consciousness by the attack, hopping to her feet and gathering power even as she opened her eyes. Like Buffy she had been stunned for a long moment at the sheer impossible scope of the creature before them, before bringing herself back under control as she watched the furred wave of attackers bearing down on her. She had initially begun preparations for another offensive spell, but when she saw the beasts simply ignore Buffy in favor of attacking her, she desperately raised a defense.

The campfire exploded, and in its place stood a wall of white flame, stretching in a thick arc from one side of the rock shelf to the other. The first wolf had too much momentum to stop itself, and simply plunged into the fire, coming out the other side as a blackened form which crumbled into ash as it slammed into the rock wall beside Willow. The other wolves began to circle and growl as she contemplated her next move.

On the other side of the wall of flame, Buffy prepared herself as she slowly sheathed her dagger. Reaching out with her right arm, she concentrated on the thin magical link that always existed when she was close to Willow, pulling in power from her friend as she prepared herself. Buffy's eyes turned black, and she felt power flowing, but unlike in the past the magic moved easily, quickly coalescing into a six foot sword of glowing, dark green energies.

The alpha wolf bit down at Buffy, and in response she slashed up with the weightless weapon, scoring a deep cut along its snout, forcing it to pull back with a pained snarl and a gout of thick blood. Buffy didn't hesitate, jumping into the air with a flip so that her feet landed horizontally against a large tree, bounding upwards again so that she was at head level with the titanic beast. Gripping the ephemeral sword two handed, she slashed hard, but the wolf was faster than she had expected, ducking out of the way in time to lose only an ear to the deadly attack.

Buffy hit the ground with a roll, before suddenly being batted to the side by the giant wolf. Bouncing and skipping along the ground, she took control of her roll at the last moment, bouncing to her feet and slashing up in time to sever the wolf's left forepaw. It howled in pain, rearing back for a moment, before plunging downward, fanged maw wide.

Buffy saw her opening and took it, leaping into the mouth of the beast past its teeth and onto a tongue the size of a bed. Landing in a crouch, she stabbed upward before the wolf even had a chance to snap shut its jaws. Blood flooded down onto her as the creature went rigid, before falling to the ground, twitching slightly.

The ground shook with the alpha wolf's impact, and the others backed off as it died. Willow lowered her fire wall, her eyes wide as she saw the dead creature, blood pooling around its mouth as Buffy climbed out, her clothing stained red. The Slayer took one long, feral look at the remainder of the wolfpack, before locking her gaze with the largest still living.

The wolf stared at Buffy for a long moment, before twisting its head to expose its throat. The other wolves all lowered their gazes, and whimpered pathetically. After a long moment the larger wolf crawled forward on its belly, until it reached Buffy. It whimpered slightly, before nudging her with its snout.

Buffy shrugged and petted it. After a moment it backed off, and one by one the wolfpack came up to her, letting her pet them before joining the others in a loose circle around the clearing. Willow, bemused, walked out to her friend. “What... what is this?”

“I think I'm the alpha now,” Buffy said, her expression somewhere between bewildered and smug. Suddenly she grinned. “I wonder if Dawnie would like a pet?”

**Author's Notes**  
Járnviðr mean “iron wood”, and it's a forest where troll women lived. They were supposed to give birth to giant wolves. Norse mythology has a number of wolves in it, including the giant Fenrir, which is rather famous. Despite the sheer scope of the beast Buffy just slew, that was not actually Fenrir.

I've always liked stuff that explored a bit of the primal side of being the Slayer. It won't be a huge thing in this series, but an ancient apex predator of the supernatural probably should have some instincts that could take some getting used to, like in early Season 5 when Buffy kept feeling a strong urge to sneak out at night and slay, and was unable to rest until she did. She asked for training to get a better control over her Slayer nature, which implies some things that I think are interesting. Hence the alpha thing, here.

The magic weapon from Willow comes from the Season 8 comic, as does Buffy's mystical connection to Willow, which allows her to perform basic magic using her friend's magic.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**A Warm Welcome**

 

Buffy and Willow strolled through the cold forest as the sun waned, following the glowing mote of green light that served as a tracker for the dwarf they were searching for. From their watches, they realized that they had only about ten hours of sunlight before the sun set each day. While they weren't too concerned about the dangers of the forest at night, they were worried about it becoming colder again.

The main source of their new confidence about the dangers they faced came from Buffy's new friends. While their first night had been a series of skirmishes with the over sized wolf monsters, killing the alpha had won the Slayer the loyalty of the pack. In addition to the larger ones that moved protectively through the trees near them, several of the younger wolf pups, although already the size of normal, full grown wolves, hung out near them, sniffing everything they came across and running around playfully.

Buffy thought that they were adorable. Whenever one of the huge beasts came near she couldn't help cooing over it, petting the giant creature like it was a cute neighborhood puppy. Willow, on the other hand, barely kept from screaming the first time one of the creatures opened its maw full of razor sharp fangs to slobber on her face.

“Buffy,” Willow said slowly as she watched the young wolves vie for the Slayer's attention. “We can't bring back a pack of giant wolves with us. I mean, even if we could, there's no way we could take care of them back at the castle.”

“Duh,” Buffy said. Willow let out a sigh of relief for a moment. “Of course I can't take them _all_. That would be way too much trouble. I mean, can you imagine trying to take care of that many of these cuties?”

Willow grimaced painfully. “Buffy, they were trying to eat us, like, an hour ago. Am I the only one who noticed this? The near eating?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “You're being silly. This so wouldn't be the first time we've taken something that tried to eat us home. 'Sides, look at him. How can you say no to this sweet wittle face.”

Buffy placed her face alongside one of the wolves, holding the head steady so that both of them gave the witch their best puppy dog eyes. It would have been more effective if halfway through the wolf hadn't opened its mouth and began panting, revealing its enormous teeth. Willow was fairly certain that real dogs didn't have nearly that many teeth. “I can't imagine,” she said sarcastically.

“Just think 'bout the kinda surprisage one of these babies would give the next baddie that tries to sneak into Slayer HQ. I think I'll add walking it to Dawnie's chores every Tuesday. Also: do you smell smoke? 'Cause I smell smoke.”

Willow sniffed, but noticed nothing. They walked more carefully after that, and before long they could see a bright light through the trees ahead. Loud, raucous laughter echoed through the forest, and the two women exchanged one last cautious look before approaching whatever lay ahead.

In front of them was a huge clearing in the forest, and at its center was an enormous longhouse. The building was the size of a football field, with a roof made of sod and roughhewn wooden walls. In front of the building was a huge fire pit, nearly twenty feet across, which blazed cheerily, brightening up the entire area. More smoke rose from a chimney at the center of the longhouse, and a number of smaller buildings were scattered around the edges of the clearing.

It would have looked very inviting, in a primitive kind of way, if the inhabitants hadn't been plainly visible. Standing around the clearing, in particular clustered around the fire, were numerous trolls. Most stood between seven and nine feet in height, with rough, dark green skin and a pair of horns on their foreheads. The only obvious difference between the male and female trolls was the presence of facial hair, and the cut of their loose tunics.

One of the trolls had sharp eyes, and noticed Willow as she observed the gathered crowd. He pointed at her and shouted something loudly to the others. As the crowd turned to face them, drawing hammers and axes as they did, Buffy stepped out from her hiding spot and stared them down.

The crowd of trolls and the Slayer faced each other for a long moment, until one of the younger ones ran into the longhouse, shouting something as he went. A few seconds later an enormous figure stepped out. A enormous, _familiar_ , figure. “I knew I remembered the land of the trolls,” Buffy muttered quietly as Willow joined her.

“YOU!” Olaf the troll shouted as he stormed out of the longhouse. He pointed at them as he marched boldly over. “The minuscule blonde one who fought me, and the Witch who banished me to this place!”

Buffy stepped in front of Willow again, her hands on her hips as she glared up at the enormous troll approaching her. “The blonde who _beat_ you, you mean.”

Olaf stopped in front of her, glaring down at her in return. They held that pose for a long moment, as everyone held their breath, before suddenly the troll began to laugh merrily. He picked the Slayer up in a huge bear hug. “Indeed! A mighty shield maiden! Come, let us feast little warrior! Feast and make merry! Ale! Bring ale for me and the fierce little warrior!”

He dropped Buffy onto the ground, before turning his attention on Willow. “You! Did you send me here?”

“Y-yes,” Willow stammered, her eyes wide as she began to gather power to defend herself. Instead she squeaked as Olaf picked her up in a crushing hug.

“Then you shall be feted too, little Witch!” he boomed. “You have led me to the land of my ancestors, where I have become Jarl! I rule these woods, and it is good! Many fine troll wenches, much hunting to be had, and the finest troll warriors to lead in battle! It is troll heaven! Now, ale for the fine wenches! Ale for everyone!”

Olaf dropped Willow and strode back to the fire, where the gathered trolls began to cheer and hand out huge flagons of ale. Buffy and Willow exchanged bemused looks before shrugging and heading towards the group. One of the wolf pups, a young black furred brute whose head was nearly to Buffy's shoulder, left the trees and followed them curiously.

One of the troll women handed Buffy and Willow flagons of ale, and the two women looked at their drinks dubiously. They each held nearly a gallon of alcohol, and were heavy enough that Willow had to use two hands to hold it. The flagons themselves were crudely carved from wood and looked none too clean, and the drink inside was dark and fragrant.

“Drink, warrior!” Olaf boomed. “Share the hospitality of my fire! My booze! My food!”

Buffy looked around cautiously, not certain that she wanted to drink anything brewed by trolls. Actually, she was reasonably certain that she _didn't_ want to drink anything brewed by trolls. The expectant expressions on the faces of the large, well armed crowd, which became steadily darker the longer she delayed, eventually caused her to raise her flagon to her lips.

She had never been much of a drinker, and she had avoided beer at all costs after the cave Slayer incident her first year of college. The ale resembled the beer that she had drunk, although it was far more potent and thick. It reminded her more of some kind of bitter, liquid bread than anything she had ever tasted before.

The crowd of trolls began to chant as she swallowed, banging their own flagons together rhythmically as they did. “Drink! Drink! Drink!”

“Drink deeply minuscule warrior!” Olaf roared. “Drink and prove your mettle!”

Buffy had never been a big fan of giving into peer pressure, but back in Sunnydale peer pressure wasn't in the form of an army of well armed trolls who might decided to tear her to pieces if she didn't do as they wanted. Breathing through her nose, she resigned herself and swallowed the ale in one long, continuous drink, eventually turning her flagon upside down to show that it was empty. The crowd roared its approval and began slapping her painfully on the back as they began to disperse, returning to their own drinking and loud conversations.

“Good!” Olaf shouted as one of the female trolls replaced Buffy's drink. “You are a true warrior! Strong of arm and thirst! You shall be feted with the finest revel in all of Járnviðr! A feast fit for a true shield maiden!”

The other trolls cheered loudly. Buffy tried to say something, but all that came out was an enormous belch, causing her to turn red. She had drunken so much ale that her stomach felt full to bursting, even as the drink began to warm her entire body. Olaf laughed in reply, giving an enormous belch of his own. “It is good!” he shouted. “The feast shall begin in two hours! Until then, make merry and be welcome!”

Buffy turned around to take in the camp, her motions carefully controlled as her super charged Slayer metabolism set to work immediately on the ale that she had consumed. She had eaten nothing but rations for the past couple of days, and so her stomach was empty and her system ready to process anything she took in. The result was a spreading heat as her muscles became loose and her mood relaxed.

Willow looked from Buffy to her own ale, before sniffing it and wrinkling her nose in distaste. Glancing around to make sure that she wasn't being observed, she discretely dumped the majority of her stein out on the ground. She then turned to her friend, a forced smile on her face. “So! Troll ale. That's, um... wow.”

“Yeah,” Buffy said, giggling slightly. “I didn't like it at first, but I can see why people get into this whole... thingie. You know?”

“No,” Willow answered honestly, not having followed her friend's train of thought.

“So, do you like my puppy?” she asked. “I want to keep him. He's so cute.”

Willow looked down at the enormous wolf creature that had followed them into the clearing. “It's something alright.”

“Right,” Buffy said, nodding seriously. “I'm gonna tell Dawnie he's the Summers' family pet. Then I'll teach him to guard her, so she won't get hurt. She's not... safe enough. Always doing her own thing, not worryin' 'bout worryin' me. I worry.”

Willow smiled. “Dawnie's pretty grown up, you know. Not like she used to be, all damsel in distress girl. She could show some of your Slayers what for... for a bit anyway. You've got 'em pretty well trained.”

“I worry 'bout them, too,” Buffy said with drunken seriousness. “People don't think I do, but I know all my Slayers. Every one. An' I hate sendin' any of em into danger. 'Cause they're mine. An' it's my fault they're Slayers. So I have to take care of 'em. Plus, I worry 'bout you. All the time.”

“You do?” Willow asked, surprised.

“'Course,” Buffy said, nodding. “You're my bestest friend. Plus, I already killed you.”

“Killed me?” Willow asked.

“In the future. It was this whole thing. So I don't want to that again. Kill you. So I have to make sure you don't go bad again.”

“Buffy,” Willow said, grabbing her arm. “What are you talking about?”

Buffy wiped a tear from her eye as she slowly explained everything that had happened during her trip to the future. “So I come back, and you do so much magic,” she continued. “All the time. Just: bibbidi-bobbidi-booage. An' I don' wanna lose you to the magic again. An' why did you make me kill you? Why?!”

Willow wrapped her arm around Buffy's shoulders. “It wasn't me.”

“It was!” Buffy insisted. “It was totally you! I should know, 'cause you made me stab you. With the Scythe.”

“Look, I know that must have been terrible for you, having to do that. But it wasn't me. It was just a possible me. A me that did stupid stuff for bad reasons. I mean, that me made you kill her. Bad Willow. Like vampire Willow, just less skanky I hope.”

“Not skanky,” Buffy said, nodding her head seriously. “More loony. Like Dru.”

“Lovely,” Willow replied, scrunching her face up in distaste. “And, okay, that as a possible future? It's all of the bad. But that's only a possible future. Just like all the apocalypsi we've stopped? Possible futures, that we made unpossible. So don't worry. This is just like a prophecy, or a Slayer dream, or that freaky thing in Sephrilian's dimension, or that dream the draugr gave us-you, gave _you_. Just stuff that _could_ happen, but we'll make sure won't.”

“But what causes it?” Buffy asked desperately. “'Cause you do lots of magic. Beaucoup magic. An' a lotta it is needed, or we'd have badness. So what if... what if my having you save the day, makes you go bad again?”

Willow was quiet for a minute. “I can't believe that would happen. The goddess wouldn't let one of her's go dark just by trying to stop the dark. When we get back, I'll spend some time with the Coven. Maybe I'm doing more magic than I need to. If I am, then I'll get back on the Magic Watcher's plan. You know, cut some spells out of my diet. But just 'cause something bad might happen someday, doesn't mean I can stop being _me_. My magic... it's important to me.”

Buffy grabbed her in a painful hug. “Oh Willow! I've missed you so much!”

Willow chuckled painfully. “I missed you too. But I really miss air. Air!”

The two friends sat together for a long time, Buffy continuing to metabolize her ale, becoming drunker and drunker as time passed, even without taking another sip. They talked haltingly about the last two years, both finally eager to catch up, but afraid of saying the wrong thing and ruining the healing atmosphere between them. By the time the trolls called for the feast to begin, they had regained most of their old closeness, and Buffy had to be helped inside the longhouse by Willow.

The inside of the building was smoky from a large fire pit at its center, and on either side of it were arrayed enormous tables groaning under the weight of the feast. A silver platter on each table held an entire roast boar, each the size of an SUV, and beside them were various game birds larger than an ostrich. Handwoven baskets contained huge loaves of bread, still steaming as they sat, and nearby were entire kegs of ale.

Buffy was led over to the head of the tables, where Olaf gestured to the seat beside him. “Sit shield maiden! Sit beside Olaf! And bring your pet Witch!”

Buffy sat in her wooden seat, Willow beside her, and Olaf raised his flagon in a toast, his gesture quickly replicated by the rest of the room. “To our guest! May her arm always be strong, and her aim true!”

The trolls roared in appreciation, and everyone drank. Buffy took a sip as well, although she was glad that she didn't have to drink deeply after her earlier binge. In addition to her excessive inebriation, she also worried that she would burst if she drank much more.

Despite how much she had drunk, she found herself salivating at the rich smell of real food. While everything was excessively large, it all tasted quite normal, and both Buffy and Willow were hungry enough to dig in greedily. After a little while the wolf pup laid its huge head in Buffy's lap, staring up at her pleadingly. She grinned and started feeding it as well.

“A good spread, though I miss succulent, tender baby flesh,” Olaf said dreamily.

Buffy nodded drunkenly. “'S good. No complaints.”

“Good!” he boomed. “Let us now tell tales, such as our ancestors would weep! I shall begin!”

Standing up, he took another huge gulp of ale, and the room quieted slightly as everyone listened to his story. He told the tale of his encounter with Buffy, from being released by Willow all the way to waking up in the land of the trolls. While everything in his telling was highly melodramatic, sounding like a norse epic told in prose, he didn't actually lie about anything that had happened. Willow noticed the more impressed glances Buffy received after the tale ended.

“A fine adventure, and one that led to good ends!” Olaf finished boldly. “I only miss the loss of my hammer. Never a weapon has better fit my hands! A keen loss that was. Now, your turn! Tell a tale!”

Buffy stood, swaying slightly, just drunk enough to think telling a story would be a good idea. “Your hammer! I have the tale of your hammer, which beat a god!”

Buffy had recently told the story to the shape changer Reithe while she had been searching for the Claiomh Solais, and so she was able, even inebriated as she was, to retell the story of the defeat of Glory. As before she left as much about her sister's role out of the tale as possible, and as she spoke she made sure to focus on her use of Olaf's hammer in her fight. When she finished her story, the trolls burst into cheers, and a toast was held for her valor.

“A fine tale indeed!” Olaf proclaimed. “My hammer may be lost, but it was lost after laying low a god! A fitting end!”

“Couldn't have done it without it,” Buffy said, nodding firmly.

“You are a doughty warrior indeed,” Olaf said. “Many a trollmaid would eagerly seek out your bed, for few are those to slay a god!”

Buffy blinked drunkenly, looking across the table at a large, hairy troll woman, who fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly at the Slayer. Willow stared, unable to tear her eyes away from the most disturbing thing she had ever seen, made even more comical by Buffy's drunken curiosity. “Really?” the Slayer asked.

“Indeed!” Olaf said. “Many troll men as well, though most fear to bed a warrior greater than they!”

Buffy blinked thoughtfully for a moment. “Actually, there's already someone... back home.”

Willow looked at her in surprise. “Really? Who?”

Buffy opened her mouth to answer, but before she could another troll stood and began to sing at the top of his lungs. Trolls were more impressive for the volume of their voices than for their ability to carry a tune, and Willow winced in pain at the sound. Before long the rest joined in the singing, all of them off key, but all drunk enough not to care. Even Buffy sang along after a few more sips from her tankard, despite not knowing the words.

It was a very long night for the only sober person in the area.

**Author's Notes**  
A little of Willow's response to the revelation about Buffy's trip to the future comes from the Retreat arc of the Season 8 comic. Most of it was mine though, since the conversation is in really different circumstances.

Ah, Olaf the troll. He was a lot of fun to write. And drinking troll ale? That's gonna have some side effects. Although she wouldn't have had much choice – the Norse took drinking games seriously. My favorite was a game where the players would alternate drinking a cup of mead, then they would have to make up insulting poetry about their opponent. The loser was whoever got too drunk to make up a good poem. I decided not to do this, because I really didn't want to try and make up Trollish poetry. Or Buffyish poetry for that matter.

Trolls did exist in Norse mythology, but they are pretty ill defined. My trolls are the trolls from the Buffyverse. I've expanded upon them with general Norse culture, similar to the way that Olaf was originally presented.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**The Troll Games**

 

The entire world sat on top of Buffy's head, squeezing her brain like a walnut in a nutcracker. From within, a crew of angry, shouting men operated a fleet of jackhammers, seeking some exit from inside of her skull. She had also somehow swallowed an entire desert of gritty salt, and a heavy, hairy weight pressed down upon her stomach.

At least, that was the way it seemed to her as she woke up with the most colossal hangover she had ever imagined having in her life. She hadn't had so much trouble when she awoke from the dead, and even after digging her way free she had felt better than her current state. She would have felt better if Glory had been the one swinging the troll hammer around.

The thought of the troll hammer slowly brought hazy images into her sluggish, agonized mind. She remembered something about trolls. Did trolls beat her head in? It would explain the way that she was feeling, anyway, she decided slowly.

The heavy, furry weight on her stomach shifted slightly, the refocusing of her attention below her pounding head reminding her suddenly of her much abused stomach. She had never drunk so much volume of any liquid in her life, and on top of that she had eaten a feast as well. But added to that, the thing that she had drunk had been troll ale, which had gotten her even drunker than her experience with hard liquor right after her resurrection. She knew that she was going to throw up... very soon.

When the furry weight shifted again she suddenly froze, her nausea increasing a hundred fold as sudden fear of what she was waking up next to filled her. The memories of the evening before came flooding back, at least until the singing had begun. After that everything was fuzzy, but she distinctly remembered all of the young trolls of both genders flirting with her.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” she muttered in a hoarse rasp. She was terrified to open her eyes, but she needed to vomit, and she wasn't about to do so all over herself and... whatever else was in bed with her. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

“Here,” Willow said, her voice distinctly amused.

Buffy gathered all of her Slayer courage, hoping against hope that after their heart to heart the night before her best friend wouldn't find her sleeping with a troll funny. Slowly she pried her eyelids open, whimpering in pain as the dim light of the room seared her retinas. She promised herself, troll or or no troll, that she was never going to drink again. She really, really hoped for no troll.

Her swimming vision finally came into focus, and she steeled herself, turning her pounding head enough to see her bedmate... a black furred wolf. “Oh thank you, god,” she whimpered. It was the wolf pup that she had been feeding the night before. No trolls. Relief swept through her... although it wasn't enough to drive the nausea away.

“Expecting something else?” Willow asked.

Buffy noted that her friend was still amused. _Traiter_ , she thought petulantly. So much for best friend solidarity. “I'm gonna hurl,” she moaned.

“Hence the 'here'ing with the bucket,” Willow said.

Buffy slowly turned her head back towards the redhead, noting that she had placed a troll sized bucket on the floor. Buffy immediately bent over it and lost what felt like everything that she had ever eaten. When she finally finished dry heaving, she lay back down, moaning in disgust. Troll ale was much, _much_ worse the second time.

“Here again, but with the fresh water,” her wonderful friend told her.

After rinsing her mouth out enough times to forget the taste for the moment, she then drank her fill, before laying back down with a whimpering groan. She no longer felt like she was dying, but she still wasn't certain that she wouldn't rather be dead. Dead was nice. Soft and peaceful. Troll sized hangovers were anything but. She suspected that she had discovered what hell was like. She didn't like it much.

Willow left, presumably taking care of her ripe bucket, and Buffy dozed for a few minutes, drifting in and out of hazy recollections of the previous evening. Why had she gotten so drunk, she wondered desperately. Besides the whole, drink or die implicationy thing.

Her friend returned, this time with a plate of delicious smelling bacon. Buffy's nose twitched, her memories of losing everything she had eaten fighting against her sudden hunger. Food or sleep she wondered for a moment. “You win again bacon,” she finally muttered, slowly sitting up. She paused once she had, holding her head as everything started spinning. “Oh god...”

“That's what you get for drinking so much,” Willow told her smugly.

“Can't you fix it? Please?” Buffy rasped.

“Hey, you were the one being all 'no Willow, don't do magic! It's of the bad!' to me, missy! I told you, no more magic unless I need to for world savage until I can spend some more time with the coven.”

“If you won't make with the mojo, can you bring me an axe?” Buffy asked plaintively. “I don't need a head, right? Nothing this painful is necessary.”

“No mojo for hangovers,” Willow answered smugly. “It would be selfish magic, messing with natures way of saying 'naughty! Don't drink so much!'. And no axes, either.”

Buffy whimpered again. “Had to drink. Trolls would eat us.”

“Maybe the first glass,” Willow agreed. “The rest while you were getting your troll boogie on? So unnecessary.”

“Troll boogie?” Buffy asked. “Do I want to know?”

“Let's just say, if I hadn't steered you to bed last night, you wouldn't just be waking up with your puppy. Troll ale is potent stuff. I don't think it's just alcohol – it's more like some kinda magic brew. Just super drunken Buffy instead of cave Slayer Buffy.”

Buffy whimpered again, so pathetically that Willow took some pity on her. They had made up the previous evening, after all, and there were limits to her sadism. “I do have some pain killers, though. Slayer specials.”

Buffy took the offered pills, swallowing them dry, and then sat, rubbing her forehead for a couple of minutes while they went to work. Finally, with a sigh of relief, she pried her dry eyes open again, this time taking in the plate of yummy bacon with a side of bread. “You are my hero.”

Willow smiled, and for the first time that morning the expression didn't make Buffy want to pound her head in. The breakfast was hot and tasty, and slowly but surely the combination of water, greasy food, and Slayer strength pain medication brought Buffy back to the land of the living. A staggering, stumbling trip to the bathroom, which turned out to be a chamber pot, and she almost felt like herself again.

The two women made their way back to the main area of the longhouse, where they found the majority of the trolls eating breakfasts and nursing hangovers of their own. Olaf in particular looked rough as he sipped at another ale, his green face pale and his baggy eyes half open. When he saw her he raised his tankard in salute. “Herr Buffy!”

Buffy glanced at Willow. “Herr?”

“You got knighted,” the Witch explained. “Or, well, Riddered. You're a Ridder now.”

The two of them sat down next to Olaf, who took another long drink, and rubbed his forehead. “When I was human and would feel this way, Anyanka would clatter her pots and pans loudly to make my head pound more. She was cruel even before becoming a demon!”

Buffy smiled wistfully. She had never been terribly close to Anya, but she missed the outspoken former demon, and not just because of how miserable her absence had made Xander. “She was one of a kind.”

“Now, what brings you to my lands, minuscule warrior? Why have you and the Witch come so far?”

“We're looking for a dwarf,” Buffy answered. “He's the brother of this other dwarf, and we need 'em to fix my sword. He said he'd do it if we brought his brother back.”

“You seek Brokkr,” Olaf said.

“You know him?” Willow asked.

“Witch!” Olaf glared. “I put up with your kind because of the good you did me, and because you are boon companions with the Ridder. Now be quiet while noble warriors speak!”

Buffy thought about objecting for her friend's sake, but really, Willow had been entirely too smug about the hangover from hell. “So you know where Brokkr is?”

Olaf raised a hand, pointing at a dwarf sitting at the far end of the feast table. He resembled his brother, having a thin build with pale skin and a long black beard. He appeared to be nursing a hangover of his own.

Buffy blinked stupidly. “That was easy.”

“To find,” Olaf agreed. “But not to get! I took him to forge me a new hammer to replace the one you took, but he claims to only run the bellows and tend the flames! It is his brother that works the metal, not he.”

“Well, Eitri said he'd fix my sword if we got his brother back,” Buffy said with a shrug.

“He's my dwarf,” Olaf said. “You may be stronger than I, but even you could not take my entire camp.”

Buffy couldn't deny that, so she settled for nodding. “Well, he's not doing you much good here, is he? Just making with the ale swigging and food eating. Honestly, you'd be better off without him.”

Olaf chuckled. “But not better off without a stout weapon! If you want to retrieve the dwarf, then you shall win him off of me, or not take him at all!”

“Win him?” Buffy asked.

“Yes! A contest! Of skill and strength and wit!”

“What kind of contest?” Buffy asked.

Olaf stroked his beard thoughtfully. “We shall have three games. If you win them all, then you can take the dwarf. If you do not, then you must bring me his brother, so that I may have a hammer as fine as Mjolnir!”

“Wait, that's not fair! Why do I have to win all three, but you just have to win one.”

“I already have the dwarf,” Olaf answered smugly.

“Well then, I should get to pick the contests! Fair's fair, right?”

Olaf snorted. “You will play good troll games, or not at all! Now, ready yourself, wench, or be declared in forfeit!”

Buffy pouted, before sighing in resignation. “Fine. You know, this sword really, really better be awesome, 'cause this is all way too much trouble.”

“We shall begin with a classic game of hnútukast!” Olaf shouted. “Five of you, volunteer to represent our people!”

Five huge, muscular trolls quickly came forward. Several more had tried to join in, and a small scuffle had erupted before its winners arrived to play. Buffy looked at Olaf with a frown. “What's... that game?”

“It is simple but good! Players pick up the bones of the last feast, and throw them at each other! The winner is the last one standing! Now, go join the brave troll warriors and the contest shall begin!”

Buffy and Willow exchanged a long look, before Buffy shrugged and stood to join the other players. “Good luck!” Willow called after her.

Buffy waved in response as she moved to the far end of the hall where the stripped bones of the two giant boars were piled. The six of them looked at each other for a long moment, sizing each other up, before one of the trolls grabbed an oversized rib and hurled it at Buffy. The crowd began to cheer as Buffy caught the bone out of the air and threw it back, catching her attacker in the head, knocking him unconscious.

The other four trolls and Buffy eyed each other for another long moment, before they all burst into motion. The air was thick with heavy bone being tossed back and forth, as all of them ducked and dived out of the way of fast thrown attacks. Buffy wasn't the only player to grab a bone from the air and hurl it at someone else, although her agility allowed her to do it more often than the others, despite their greater experience with the game.

Two more of the trolls were literally knocked out of the contest fairly quickly, and soon the remaining three players eyed each other warily, each holding a pair of heavy bones in their hands. The two trolls exchanged a quick glance, and then suddenly turned on the Slayer, throwing as fast as they could as they attempted to double team her. “Foul!” Willow screamed, jumping up and down, as into the crude game as any troll in the crowd. “They're double teaming her!”

“It is legal!” Olaf shouted. “Only one may win, but any teams may form before then!”

Buffy skipped, flipped, and cartwheeled through a veritable barrage of bones, narrowly avoiding all but a few glancing blows from the coordinated assault. Unfortunately, while as the Slayer she had incredible endurance, she was having to move far more to avoid their hits than they did to launch their attacks, and so she knew that her current tactics were a losing proposition. Watching carefully, she kept an eye on their available stockpiles of bone as well as their rhythms as she waited for opportunity.

It soon came, as she saw that one of the trolls had been too focused on attacking her to pay close enough attention to his supply of missiles. She took a quick glance at the area, before timing a cartwheel to take her to a huge skull just as he ran out of bones to throw. Grabbing the skull while she moved, she launched herself into a front flip from a handstand mid cartwheel, flinging the boar skull with terrific force, the blow not only knocking the troll out, but also sending him flying into the wall behind him.

Her bold move wasn't without consequence, however, as the other troll, which had been more careful with his stockpile, managed to catch her hard in the shoulder with a leg bone, the blow popping her arm from its socket with a crack. She bit back a scream as she moved, grabbing his next bone out of the air with her left hand and tossing it back at his face as she continued to dodge.

He caught the bone and threw it back quickly, but the break in his rhythm gave Buffy time to take the initiative, hurling bones with her good arm furiously, while he replied in kind. Soon they were rapidly tossing the same five bones back and forth, as they managed to keep them in the air while they volleyed. It was an impressive showing, and the crowd cheered and clapped along.

Buffy took advantage of that rhythmic pounding, as her opponent became consumed by it, allowing her to wait for just the right moment to sidestep and let his bones pass her by. The troll, so lost in the repetitive motions and the steady cadence of the crowd, was slow to react, and she was able to throw several quick bones at him before he realized what was happening. One caught him square in the temple, and the troll slumped to the ground, unconscious.

A great approving roar came from the gathered crowd, as Buffy raised her non injured arm high overhead in victory. She then made her way over to Willow, who wrung her hands nervously as she joined her friend. Willow began to carefully probe her shoulder, frowning all the while. “Are you alright? Other than the dislocated shoulder? I didn't see anything else, but...”

Buffy took a deep breath, before nodding at Willow, who grabbed her arm and waited. The Slayer grit her teeth, before jerking her body and grunting in pain as she forced her arm back into its socket. She then carefully flexed her arm, wincing as she did. “Two more games. This is gonna be all kinds of fun, huh.”

“I'm not the one who thought playing games with trolls was a good idea,” Willow reminded her unhelpfully.

“ _I_ was hungover,” Buffy defended. “Actually, I'm still all with the hangoverage. It was your job to be the smart one! I'm just the muscle.”

Willow snorted. “Right. Like you've ever listened to what anyone tells you to do.”

“I listen!” Buffy objected. “I just ignore. Unless I was gonna do the thing they said anyway.”

Before she could say anything else the wolf pup hopped up against her, panting and slobbering all over Buffy, who smiled at petted it. “You know, this little fella really needs a name,” she observed, glancing at Willow as she said it.

Willow nodded thoughtfully. “A good name. Maybe something Norse?”

Buffy looked at her incredulously. “I can't even pronounce half of this stuff. No way am I gonna be stuck calling him 'you' all the time due to bad nameage.”

The two women returned to their seats at the head of the table, the wolf following behind them excitedly. Olaf raised his tankard to Buffy in salute. “A fine round! You are indeed strong and skilled. Never have I seen finer dodging in a game of hnútukast.”

“First time I ever met a Watcher, he threw a knife at my head,” Buffy said with a slightly pained shrug. “Compared to that, I'll take bone throwing any day.”

“Good!” he boomed. “Are you ready for another game? Only two more remain!”

“I'm ready,” Buffy said, nodding. The things she did to save the world, she thought with a sigh.

**Author's Notes**  
Ridder was a title used in the Netherlands and Belgium. It was their equivalent to Knight. The old Norse didn't have a proper term of their own for a knight that I could find, and I thought it would be funny if Buffy was knighted by trolls, so I branched out to the oldest such term from the general area in question that I could find. I went with Ridder because of all fo the puns it makes available.

Hnútukast is a game mentioned in some of the sagas, although I made up the part about the number of players. Otherwise, it is more or less as described. Vikings – wow. It's scary how trollish their actually games really were.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**Insane Troll Logic**

 

“Next, a swimming competition!” Olaf boomed.

“Swimming?” Buffy asked. “Isn't it a little... sub zero out there? Where would we even find liquidy type water.”

“When one cracks the ice, wet water is found!” Olaf countered. “We will crack a large pool, that you may prove your skill as a swimmer!”

Buffy made a face. Ever since she had drowned fighting the Master she hadn't been a huge fan of the water. She could swim just fine, and if she had to then she had to, but she wasn't as practiced at it as she had once been. Despite living near the beach, she had become strictly a sun bather, and with her move to Scotland, not even that.

Olaf led Buffy, Willow, and a large crowd of trolls into the forest. They hiked for nearly half an hour through the dense trees, before coming upon a huge, snow covered clearing. Two trolls lifted enormous sledge hammers and began pounding on the open area, which swiftly cracked, revealing a frozen lake under the snow.

Since Willow hadn't conjured any warming flames for them like they had had during previous days in the forest, Buffy was already shivering despite the brisk walk. Looking at the thick layer of ice that was rapidly being cracked apart by the excited trolls, she turned pale and looked at her friend. “I'm going to be a Buffycicle.”

Willow nodded, wide eyed herself, before placing a hand discretely on Buffy's arm. She muttered quietly under her breath, until a slow, creeping warmth began to emanate from her grip, spreading across the Slayer's entire body. She stopped shivering, and smiled tightly at her friend as Willow gave her one more reassuring squeeze and removed her hand.

While they had been doing this, the best troll swimmers had been arguing among themselves about who would compete. Trolls being as they were, the argument had been little more than a quick but violent tussle, which culminated in a single broad, hairy troll being the winner. He stepped up beside Buffy, towering over her at more than eight feet tall, trying to intimidate her with his size.

Buffy just ignored him, stepping up next to Olaf and watching the trolls finish clearing the lake. “So, what's the what?”

Olaf gestured at the water. “A swimming competition! You and Hallvard will compete to see who swims better!”

“So, what, see who does a lap the fastest?” Buffy hazarded. “Or a bunch of laps?”

“Laps?” Olaf snorted. “This is a swimming competition! Laps! Ha!”

Buffy had a very bad feeling suddenly about the nature of a trollish swimming competition. “No laps then.”

“You and Hallvard will climb in the water. The loser is whoever can swim no more!”

“Thank you, Willow,” Buffy muttered quietly. An endurance swim in a frozen lake. She could really start to hate troll games, she decided.

The Slayer combat uniform was designed for use in all weathers and terrains, and was well made for swimming. Buffy removed her belt, packs, and pouches, before slowly stretching her muscles, wincing slightly as she moved her shoulder. The only bright side that she could think of about the competition was that the lack of speed swimming meant that she probably wouldn't have to strain her injured shoulder too much.

The troll stripped down to a loincloth, revealing a body covered with so much black fur that he resembled a bear more than a troll. “That's gotta be cheating!” Willow objected. “I mean, he won't even get cold like that!”

“It is legal!” Olaf said. “The point is not to survive the cold! It is to prove the better swimmer!”

“Suddenly don't feel bad about the warmth spell,” Willow muttered under her breath.

Buffy smiled slightly, her Slayer hearing having heard her friend's comment. Only Willow would feel bad about cheating to save her life.

“Begin!” Olaf shouted, and Hallvard cannonballed into the lake, sending freezing cold water everywhere. Buffy noticed with horror that the water which struck the ground turned to ice almost immediately. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, before slowly climbing into the lake.

It was worse than she had imagined. Even with the warming spell, the water was so cold that it felt as though it burned her skin. She began to shiver almost immediately, and she noticed that even the huge, hairy troll was starting to shiver.

Once she was completely in the water, Hallvard swam over to her and began to wrestle with her, pushing her under the water and holding her there. She hadn't been prepared for the move, but she had managed to grab a quick lungful of air before being dunked. For a single moment she thrashed about in a panic, before she brought herself under control enough to twist her body around and kick off against the troll's chest, breaking his grip and putting some distance between them.

As Buffy surfaced she heard Willow shouting in outrage. “Fowl! He's trying to drown her!”

“It is legal!” Olaf disagreed. “It is the point of the swimming competition!”

“You mean the winner is whoever manages to drown his opponent!?” Willow squeaked.

“Yes! It is a fine sport, is it not!”

Buffy swallowed hard, her eyes wide as she looked at the troll, who grinned evilly as he began to swim towards her with powerful strokes. “Any chance you'll just give up?” she asked hopefully.

Hallvard laughed. “Puny blonde! You drown now!”

“Thought not,” Buffy muttered.

When the troll came close, she suddenly dove deep, her eyes closed as she descended, the water too cold to keep them open. Coming up beneath him, Buffy grabbed his ankles and tugged, pulling the troll under the water with her. She then came up behind him, wrapping an arm around his neck as she went for a choke hold.

They burst back to the surface, the troll using his powerful legs to kick them back above the water. Buffy opened her eyes and tightened her grip, trying to cut off air and blood flow to the troll's brain. Unfortunately, her strategy didn't seem to be working well. The troll proved surprisingly flexible as he reached back over his shoulders with his long arms, grabbing her by the head with both hands, before beginning to pull.

Buffy latched on tighter for a moment, wrapping her legs around his chest and squeezing him there as well even as she tightened her hold on his neck. Unfortunately, he managed to get a good grip on her head, and had begun tugging hard at her. While his positon offered him no leverage, he was strong enough not to need it, as Buffy could feel the muscles in her neck straining. She knew that if she didn't do something soon he would do her serious, potentially fatal, damage.

She pulled her arms from around his neck, and as he took a deep lungful of air, she swung both palms with all of her strength over his ears in a terrific clap. He howled in pain, releasing her head, and she pushed off of him, swimming back to gain some room to maneuver, carefully rolling her sore neck as she did. Hallvard turned about in the water, glaring at her fiercely.

“Hallvard!” one of the trolls shouted. He tossed a small hand axe to the swimming troll, who caught it one handed, before giving a couple of practice swings. He grinned at Buffy evilly.

“Fowl!” Willow shouted. “He's got an axe!”

“It is legal!” Olaf countered. “Axes are not against the rules!”

Buffy shivered. She was so cold that she couldn't feel her fingers or toes anymore. Her shoulder was sore. Her neck was sore. She was still somewhat hungover. And she had another competition afterwards, before she would get the dwarf that she needed. All of that, and she now had an axe wielding troll swimming at her. It was shaping up to be a lousy day.

Buffy swam towards the troll, waiting until he got close enough to almost swing the axe before flipping back and kicking the water hard. The freezing water splashed him in the face, causing him to cough and sputter, and giving Buffy a chance to act. She grabbed the handle of the axe just above his grip, before launching a blow to the back of his hand with stiffened fingers. Troll anatomy was the same as human in the hands, and her precise strike caused him to lose control of his muscles for just long enough for her to rip the axe from his grasp.

Buffy turned the weapon backwards, and slammed the flat back down on his head hard. The troll blinked stupidly at her for a moment, so she swung again, and then again and again. Slowly his eyes rolled up in his head, and she grabbed him by the horns and forced him under the water. He thrashed about weakly, reawakened by the dip, but was unable to effectively defend himself.

“Herr Buffy wins!” Olaf shouted. The trolls began to cheer, as Buffy hauled the huge brute back to the surface by the horns. He grinned stupidly at her for a second, before letting her haul him back to the edge of the lake and out of the water and onto the snow covered shore.

If she had been cold in the water while struggling, it was nothing compared to how she felt as she stood in wet clothing on the shore. She began to shake so violently that she had trouble standing, and she blinked stupidly at Willow as she approached. “I... don't feel good,” she slurred.

Willow grabbed her shaking friend, her heart pounding in fear as she began to cast a spell. Buffy was pale as chalk, and her fingers, ears and lips had all turned blue. From where she held Buffy's shoulders tiny blue flames began to creep outward, spreading until they were lightly scattered across her entire body. Her wet clothing heated up, with steam pouring off of her as she dried.

Buffy first regained her color, and then her eyes became more focused and her shivering stopped. She smiled at Willow weakly, but then frowned as her eyes unfocused again. “Wills,” she said, before collapsing against her friend, the world spinning. Willow quickly put out the magical flames, before muttering a quick spell to dry her friend's clothing. “I'm dizzy.”

“It'll be okay,” Willow said nervously. “Just warmed you up too fast. I think.”

One of the trolls walked over and picked Buffy up. Willow noticed two trolls carrying Hallvard as well. “Nothing to worry about!” Oalf said. “Swimming competitions need recovery! We will sup and drink much ale, and then we shall have the third challenge!”

Before long Buffy found things becoming clearer again as she sat at the feast table with a warm wool blanket wrapped around her. Blinking, she looked at Willow, who appeared to be very concerned. “Wills? What happened?”

“You're okay!” Willow said excitedly. “You got hypothermia, so I warmed you up, but I was in too much of a hurry, so you warmed up too fast, which was not of the good, and you went into shock!”

Buffy blinked again as she absorbed her friend's babble, before finally replying. “So I'm okay now?”

“Well, you don't seem to have had a stroke or heart attack or anything, so I guess so,” Willow said after examining her friend magically. “But don't do that again! I was so worried!”

“Don't be. Compared to that hangover, I feel like a bazillion bucks.”

Before long Olaf joined them, and the rest of the trolls trooped in as well, taking seats around the feasting tables. Platters of food were brought in, and with them large tankards of ale. The trolls immediately dug in, and Buffy and Willow quickly joined them.

Near the end of the meal, a young female troll approached Buffy, fluttering her bushy eyelashes and preening to show off her polished horns. “You're so brave,” the troll cooed. “And mighty!”

Willow looked at her friend, frowning slightly. “What's with all the trolls being into you. I mean, I get why the men would be, but _all_ thewomen?”

Olaf overheard her comment, and chuckled deeply. “Most trolls were born and raised here, Witch! To them, a small, pink, hornless human is a strange creature, whether man or woman! What difference does it make what you are, if you are strong! Marrying you would give them great status!”

“Um, thanks and all, I mean, I'm sure you're a very pretty troll, but...” Buffy said awkwardly.

The troll smiled as seductively as a seven foot, muscular troll could, placing a hand casually on the Slayer's shoulder. Before Buffy could say or do anything, she found herself grabbed from behind and pulled from her seat. She was then turned around and held off of the ground, facing her attacker.

The troll was a veritable mountain of muscle. She stood over nine feet tall, with a thick mane of red hair and glaring black eyes. “She is my little sister!” the troll snarled. “Do not corrupt her, temptress!”

“I wasn't!” Buffy yelped. “She came over here and was talking to me...”

“So my sister is a seducer?!” the troll roared, outraged.

“No, she was just talking. Anyway, I wasn't going to do anything...”

“What, she isn't good enough for you!?”

“Wait,” Willow interjected. “Are you mad 'cause your sister was flirting with Buffy, or because Buffy wasn't flirting back?”

“Do not confuse me with your words and reason!” the troll said, dropping Buffy to the ground and pointing at her dramatically. “I challenge you, tiny human! For my sister's honor!”

The trolls roared in excitement, and Olaf raised a hand. “I shall make this challenge be the third task. If you win, then you shall have the dwarf. Lose, and you must bring his brother to me, and pay reparation to Tyra for the slight to her sister Bergdis' honor!”

Buffy groaned, but stood, shaking her head. “Fine, at least this is normalish. Kinda, anyway. So, how do we do this?”

Olaf lead Buffy and the huge troll woman, Tyra, outside, where several trolls quickly unfolded an enormous bearskin on the ground. The creature had apparently been the size of a small house in life, and created a surface larger than her training room in Sunnydale had been once stretched upon the ground. Beside it were a pile of six wooden shields and a pair of heavy war hammers.

“The holmgang is fought upon the skin!” Olaf boomed. “The loser is the first to be pushed from it! You take a shield and a hammer, and exchange hammer blows back and forth until one of you is knocked from the ring. When you break your shield, you may retrieve another, but you only get three!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Buffy interjected. “We're just gonna stand here and trade licks?”

“It is the holmgang!” Olaf said. “It is a test of honor and strength!”

Buffy sighed, before walking over to the shields and inspecting them. She had been hoping just one of the troll challenges would be something normal, and instead it was just as weird as all of the rest. Picking up the shield, she examined its straps. She had never used one before, but she quickly figured out how to wear it effectively. Grabbing one of the war hammers, she stepped into the ring.

Tyra joined her, sneering as she did. “Do not think you can beat me because you have defeated many of our males! I am the strongest troll! You will not get away with besmirching my sister's honor!”

“Hey, I wasn't trying to smirch anything!” Buffy objected.

“Rahhh!” the troll roared as she suddenly swung her war hammer with impressive speed. Buffy barely raised her shield in time, her body not set, the blow sending her flying nearly to the edge of the bear skin before she skidded to a stop.

“Fowl!” Willow objected. “She wasn't ready!”

“It is legal!” Olaf said. “The holmgang begins when one steps onto the skin!”

Buffy climbed to her feet, flexing the fingers of her shield hand to try and restore some feeling to them. The troll's blow had been _powerful_. Gripping her war hammer, she swung hard, turning her body to use her core muscles and hips to increase her power. Tyra's shield shivered under the force of the blow, knocking her backwards several feet before she brought herself under control.

Tyra grinned, swinging the hammer hard, but this time Buffy was ready. She braced herself, and instead of simply blocking directly she angled her shield to cause the hammer to waste most of the power of its swing. Despite her efforts she slid backwards nearly two feet as a small crack developed on her shield.

Buffy swung again, this time stepping sideways as she did so that her blow fell more towards the rim of Tyra's shield. The hammerhead delivered the blow to the much smaller area, shattering part of the wood in a shower of spliters, and twisting the troll's body around, sending her stumbling backwards.

Tyra righted herself, before swinging again, aiming once more for the same spot she had struck the previous time. While Buffy was able to once again deflect the majority of the force, this time even managing to avoid sliding so far backwards with the blow, but she grunted in pain as her shield split in two. Before she could do anything to recover the troll pressed her shield up against her, crowding her back closer to the edge of the bearskin, using the advantage of her shield and her mass to keep Buffy penned in.

“Fowl!” Willow tried again. “She's not letting Buffy get a shield!”

“It is legal!”

“Is _anything_ illegal!?” Willow demanded.

Buffy grit her teeth and set her feet. She refused to lose, especially not to a troll with a petty grudge while she was trying to save millions of lives. She shouldered Tyra backwards a step, before gripping her hammer two handed. Setting her body, she wound up for the most powerful strike that she could deliver. She used every muscle she had, from her toes to her fingers as she swung a massive blow at the troll's shield.

Her attack caught the wood near the damaged section, and like her own, it broke, shattering completely. Unlike Tyra's blow, Buffy's hit sent the troll flying backwards in a shower of broken wood. Buffy stalked forward grimly, her hammer at the ready. Tyra shook her head, before standing and swinging once again.

This time Buffy was shieldless, and she had no interest in taking the powerful troll's attack anywhere on her body. When she ducked the powerful blow, Tyra ended up spinning around from her momentum, and Buffy took advantage of it by rushing at her, pushing her in the back with the haft of her hammer. Shoving hard, the Slayer kept her legs churning as she rushed the surprised troll out of the combat area and onto the snowy ground outside.

The trolls began to cheer again, and Olaf shouted over the noise. “You have won again, Herr Buffy! You may have your dwarf!”

Buffy grinned, dropping the war hammer, before stepping next to Tyra and offering her a hand. The troll met her gaze for a moment, before grinning toothily and accepting the help up. The crowd cheered again, before dispersing. “No hard feelings?” she asked.

“No,” Tyra said. “You are truly mighty. I would welcome your suit of little Bergdis.”

Buffy gulped. “Um, sorry. I'm kinda already interested in someone. I'm sure she's, um, great. I've got a little sister myself. Love her to death, but I think she's made of trouble.”

“Yes, mine as well,” Tyra said with a nod. “I hope to see you again someday, little one!”

“You too,” Buffy said, smiling stiffly. Most of her didn't want to even think about trolls again... but part of her had actually enjoyed herself. It had been like a vacation roughing it; it appealed to the warrior she had become, but most of her was really looking forward to returning to a world of shopping, TV, and indoor plumbing.

“Will you be staying for another feast?” Olaf asked.

Buffy shook her head, smiling slightly. “Sorry. Got to see a dwarf 'bout a sword. Thanks though.”

He grunted. “Come again anytime, Herr Buffy! May you ever be strong of arm! Next time maybe we can have a true feast befitting a warrior of your stature! It has been too long since I have feasted on plump, succulent babyflesh!”

Buffy's smiled turned stiff, as she suddenly remembered why she didn't want anything to do with trolls. “Thanks. That's... great. Really. I'm just gonna go... get the dwarf now. Bye!”

**Author's Notes**  
Once again, actual Norse sporting activities don't require much tweaking to be the sort of stupid things trolls would do for fun. Normally Norse swimming competitions would only involve wrestling to try and keep your opponent under. Several stories mention athletic competitions ending with some axe work, however, so I don't feel like it was too over the top to include such a thing in the troll version. Also, most of the time they wouldn't have tried to do it in the dead of winter.

Buffy suffered from moderate hypothermia, before Willow warmed her up magically. It was too rapid, however, giving her rewarming collapse, a sudden drop in blood pressure, which can be very dangerous. I would like to point out that I am neither a doctor, nor an expert on cold weather survival, and my information about this comes from various websites.

The holmgang was a traditional kind of Norse honor duel. The version I showed was similar to those used fairly late as a way to have a duel without having as great of a risk of death. It also took place in a much smaller area, as a normal bearskin is a pretty small space to fight in. Different places and times had different versions of the fight, but mine wasn't too unusual.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**Reforging the Sword**

 

“Nope,” Brokkr said with a belch.

Buffy blinked with confusion. “What do you mean, 'nope?'”

“Mean I ain't gonna do it,” the dwarf said, taking another swig of troll ale.

“You're a very bad rescuee,” Willow said. “How can you say nope?”

“I just did three really stupid and annoying things to rescue you,” Buffy added slowly. “I'm annoyed beyond the telling of it. I nearly drowned, almost froze to death, and I think I'm _still_ hungover. So explain this in terms that _won't_ get your head twisted off with Slayer strength.”

“Well, first I was upset, what with the kidnapping,” Brokkr began.

“Hence the rescueage,” Buffy interrupted.

Brokkr ignored her. “But, I couldn't make anythin' – my brother does all that. I just run the bellows. So anyways, when he realized that, Olaf just set me up with all the ale I c'n drink, an' all the food I c'n eat. Why would I leave?”

“Your brother misses you?” Buffy hazarded.

The dwarf laughed uproariously, rapping his tankard on the table as he did. “Him? Why would I wanna see his ugly mug. I'd rather be surrounded by trolls!”

Buffy and Willow exchanged an annoyed look. “Fine. What do you want? And try quickly, 'cause I'm gonna to be violent girl here in a sec if you don't make with the followage.”

Brokkr looked at them for a moment, before leaning slightly towards Buffy and sniffing. “Hmm. I smell somethin' worth my time.”

“Ew,” Buffy said, making a face. “Like we told your brother: even suggest _that_ and you won't be able to again, capiche? Plus? Smelling: way gross.”

The dwarf snorted and spat a glob of phlegm on the ground. “Whataya think I am? A lech like my brother? No, I smell somethin' good for the forge. Coal of some kind, but nothin' I ever smelt before.”

Buffy and Willow both frowned in confusion, before the Slayer suddenly started searching her pockets. “Ooh! I know. I killed this full-a-ham fairy demon thingie a while back, and it had a heart like a lump of coal. I forgot to take it out of my pouch, and just decided to keep it, 'cause it was kinda cool. See, it looks like coal, but it doesn't make my hands dirty or anything. Weird, huh?”

Brokkr eyed the coal greedily as Buffy showed it to him. “That'll do it. Gimme that, an' I'll follow ya to my brother.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “Nuh uh. First of all, if I give you this, you gotta help your brother reforge my sword. And make sure he does it too, really good, 'cause I am up to here with getting sent everywhere for this stupid thing. If it isn't completely and totally awesome, then I'm gonna shove that coal somewhere you really wouldn't like so hard it'll turn to diamond.”

“Right, no cheatin' ya,” Brokkr agreed. “We gotta deal.”

“Fine,” Buffy said, handing it over with a huff. “Let's just _do this._ ”

Willow grabbed some chalk, and quickly sketched the summoning circle for Ratatoskr on the ground. Within moments the giant green squirrel creature appeared out of its rift. “We're ridin' _that?!”_ Brokkr demanded.

“Yup,” Buffy said, smirking slightly. It was nice not to be the only person discomforted by their mode of transportation.

The wolf pup that had followed them into the troll camp came running over and paused in front of Ratatoskr, sniffing it. When the huge creature glared and began chittering, the wolf whined and hid behind Buffy. Willow started giggling. “You might have to rethink the whole guard dog plan for Dawnie.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, before petting the wolf and scratching its ears. “He's just a little fella. 'Sides, giant green squirrels are wiggy.”

Ratatoskr chittered at her, too, but she ignored it as she climbed on behind her friend. Brokkr was a little slower, hesitating for a moment, before he climbed on as well. The wolf eyed them for warily, before hopping onto the Slayer's lap. Then they were back through the rift and onto Yggdrasil.

The trip was as unpleasant as ever, the experience not growing more comfortable for Buffy with repeated exposures. The wolf seemed to dislike it even more than she did, spending most of the trip covering its eyes with its paws and whimpering. Brokkr wasn't a fan either, although his response was to take long draws from a silver hip flask and and curse in several languages. Buffy couldn't have been more relieved when they arrived back in Svartálfaheim.

Buffy had been prepared this time, and already had her flashlight out as they arrived in the dark. Shining it around while Willow produced her lantern, she saw that they were already in front of Eitri's door, where they had left from the previous time. “That's convenient.”

“Yeah,” Willow said. “Since we knew where to go, this guy knew how to take us there.”

Buffy knocked on the dwarf's door shortly thereafter, and before long Eitri opened it. He took one look at the group before looking at her again. “Well, now. See you brought a dog back with ya. An' a wolf, too.”

Brokkr sneered in reply. “Let's get workin' brother. I left all the troll ale I could drink to come back here. Might as well get somethin' done.”

The two glared at each other, before grumbling and heading towards the back. “Don't touch anythin'!” Brokkr called.

“An' don' go anywhere,” Eitri added. “It'll be most of the day to get this done, 'specially with this fool slowin' me down.”

“Why did he want us to rescue his brother?” Willow whispered.

“I'd say this is just stupid sibling stuff, but if Dawnie and I were that bad, I'd strangle us.”

“Well...” Willow said thoughtfully. “I guess you're not _that_ bad.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Hey, we made up. I was all mature and responsible like. It was a new day for Buffys everywhere.”

“Long as you admit that much,” Willow teased.

They sat quietly for a minute, before Buffy looked cautiously over at her friend. “So... you're making with the Coven time when we get back?”

Willow nodded slowly. “Yeah. I... if you're right, I really don't want that to happen. So, I won't let it.”

“ _We_ won't let it,” Buffy said fiercely.

“We won't let it,” Willow agreed with a smile. “It's good to have a we meaning me and you again. We haven't been a we in a long time.”

“Yeah,” Buffy said, smiling as well. “'S good. I missed we.”

“And there's another kind of we, apparently,” Willow added. “You mentioned it to trolls, but not to your best friend? Talk about making me feel unwanted.”

“Huh?” Buffy asked innocently.

“Don't try that on me, missy! I know you too well. You said there was someone in your life. Who is he?”

“Well,” Buffy prevaricated, fiddling with her belt. She smiled as the wolf pup came over and lay across her lap, and she began to pet him. “There is someone... that I feel for. But, we aren't... together.”

“Who is he?”

Buffy petted the animal for a second. “Does it matter? I mean, look at me. Relationships and Buffy are non-mixy things. And... and it's too dangerous anyway. I mean, if someone gets close, then bad stuff happens. So, even if I do feel this, I shouldn't...”

“Buffy!” Willow shouted over her friend's babble. “Who is it?”

Buffy looked away, before clearing her throat. “Satsu.”

“Satsu?!” Willow shouted. “But... but... you're straight.”

Buffy suddenly glared at her. “Like you can talk, miss always wanted Xander and dated Oz. Besides, I never said I didn't like guys. And she isn't the first, um, the first girl I've, well, noticed. Not that anything happened! At all, 'til Satsu. Still. I... I've noticed girls before.”

Willow's mouth opened and closed in shock for several moments, before she shook her head, clearing it. “Okay. Wow. Before? When was this?”

“When... before everything went bad. With Faith. We never... nothing ever... but...”

“I knew something was funny there!” Willow suddenly crowed, making Buffy jump in shock.

“I just said nothing actually happened!” Buffy objected. “It didn't. I was interested, and she seemed to be interested... in everyone. I... I was still reeling from Angel, and then he came back, and I didn't want to just be the Slayer from her next batch of stories. You know, naked alligator wrestling, and buses of nuns, and the elder Slayer she got with.”

Willow nodded in understanding. “Yeah. That's a turn off.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I mostly like guys, but Satsu isn't the first time I've felt something for a girl.”

“Okay,” Willow said nodding. “Rewriting Buffy knowledge here. Okay. Still, if you like her, and we know she loves you... why did you let her go?”

“She left me, okay! I admit, I didn't handle things well, but she didn't even try to fight for me. And anyway, just being near me got her pummeled by Twilight, and that was when I hadn't slept with her. And after she left, because of me she got her soul ripped out-”

“She what?” Willow interjected.

“It was this whole thing with a giant and this soul sucking banshee and stuff. So not the point. Where was I? Oh yeah. She is so better off having nothing to do with me, and that's it. It would never work out anyway.”

“What do you mean,” Willow said, her face darkening. “Of course it might not work out. Nothing is for sure, except nothing works out for people who don't even try!”

“Like you're one to talk about freaky romance problems,” Buffy suddenly deflected. “What's with you and snake girl?”

Willow huffed. “Fine. She's this mystic guide person I met astral projecting. She's been teaching me some magic stuff. And she's hot, in a freaky snake body kinda way. And she knows so much about magic...”

“So there's some crushage,” Buffy interjected.

“I guess,” Willow said with a sigh. “I do care about Kennedy. Don't think I don't, 'cause I do. Really! It's just... we're so different. She doesn't really know much about the magic. She can't... share the most important thing in my life.”

Buffy put her hand on Willow's. “We didn't like Kennedy at first. I mean, she can be a bit bratty. But... I know she cares about you. Like, really loves you. I know I'm the last person qualified to give romantic advice to anyone ever, but... you need to figure this out. I'm not saying snake girl is the one for you, but I'm not hypocritical enough to scold you for demon lovers, either. But if Kennedy isn't who you love, you need to let her move on, even if it hurts.”

Willow blinked back tears for a moment. “Yeah. I do care about her... a lot. I thought I loved her there for a while. But when things started calming down again, after Sunnydale... she just wasn't as important anymore, you know? That sounds so bad.”

“No,” Buffy said shaking her head. “Not at all. You met her when everything was crazy, with your magic not of the good, and Tara gone, and an apocalypse, and all that. Things were intense. So you fell hard and fast for the girl who was there. Then after, it wasn't the same.”

“Yeah,” Willow agreed. “I do need to tell Kennedy. Thanks.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, until Willow blinked in surprise as Buffy moved her hand suddenly. “What was that?” she asked.

“A fly,” Buffy answered. “I got it. Wonder what it was doing down here?”

“Well, could be normal in this dimension,” Willow speculated. “I mean, we don't know anything about the flora and fauna here.”

“Besides the really wiggy fish,” Buffy added.

“Well, _I've_ never seen your cave fish, but I'll take your word for it.”

They talked comfortably off and on for hours, enjoying each other's company, as the tension had finally abated between them having completely cleared the air. Their recent conversations had all been tainted by the tension between them, but suddenly they felt closer than they had anytime since Sunnydale had cratered. Perhaps even since before Buffy had died.

Eventually they looked up, as Brokkr entered the room. “You maybe wanna see it?”

They hopped to their feet. “Yup,” Buffy said with a grin.

The back room where the brothers did their work had a large, blue white flame burning in a forge, and a huge black anvil in front of it. Next to the anvil was a large trough of water, which was currently steaming as Eitri held something submerged in it. When they came fully into the room, he pulled it out, polishing it quickly with a cloth while keeping his body between them and the object. He then grabbed the sheath from his side and put the sword in it, before turning to face them.

“Here it is,” Eitri said, smirking. “One of my finest works.”

“ _Our_ works, you credit stealing lech!” Brokkr barked.

Eitri spat into the fire, but otherwise ignored his brother as he offered the weapon to Buffy. Before even drawing it she noticed that the hilt had been refurbished, and was now shiny and covered with intricate runes, so tiny and precise that she could barely read them. Taking a deep breath, her heart pounding in anticipation, Buffy drew the weapon.

It was a masterpiece. The blade shined like a mirror, catching the light from the forge in such a way that it almost seemed to contain a flame trapped within its double edge. She could feel the power of it, singing to every part of her Slayer nature, calling out to destroy anything that she desired. Giving it a few practice swings, Buffy marveled at the weapon's perfect balance as it fit her hand as if it belonged there.

“She's a beaut, all right,” Eitri said. Buffy glanced over, where she saw him placing a stack of steel shields on top of his anvil. She noticed that the top one had an intricate painting of a dragon on it. “Test the blade. See if it c'n slice these shields.”

Buffy grinned like a kid in a candy store, all but skipping over to the anvil. Taking a deep breath, she raised the sword, before swinging hard. The result left her blinking in surprise.

She had felt no resistance at first, the blade cleaving through the shields as though they didn't even exist. Even the anvil provided little obstacle, as her weapon continued through before stopping at the end of her arm's extension, where the blade sunk into the stone floor. What left her really surprised, however, was the lack of apparent effect.

Pulling her blade back, she stared in confusion, as the weapon was still whole and apparently unmarked from her swing. The anvil and shields, however, were also unharmed. “What happened?” Willow asked, equally perplexed.

Buffy slowly reached out a hand, nudging the anvil ever so gently. With a deafening clatter the two halves of the heavy metal object hit the floor along with six halves of the steel shields, all perfectly split in two, leaving a mirror like finish on the perfectly cut metal. The stone floor below even had a thin, perfect line where the blade had sliced into it.

“Whoa,” Buffy said, staring at her weapon in awe.

“I present Gram, called Wrath in your tongue,” Eitri said. “Forged by Wayland the Smith, reforged by Regin, son of Hreiðmarr, reforged by myself and my brother. Regin laid many runes to slay his brother, Fafnir the dragon. I strengthened them, makin' it a weapon that is the bane of any dragon.”

“Not a bad chop,” Brokkr grunted, eyeing the anvil. He then reached out and grabbed one of Buffy's long blonde hairs, jerking it out and producing a yelp of shock.

“What'd you do that for?” Buffy demanded. “Also: not a good idea to do that to someone holding a really pointy weapon.”

“Just watch,” Brokkr said with a grin. He held the hair above the sword, before releasing it to fall onto the edge of the blade. Buffy stared in shock as she watched her entire hair split smoothly in two as it fell over the sword. “You know, brother, I think that's the happiest I've ever seen you make a woman.”

“I could make 'em even happier,” Eitri said with a leer.

Buffy came out of her joyful daze with a disturbed shudder, pointing the sword directly at Eitri. “How 'bout you never _ever_ suggest that again.”

“Fine,” Eitri said, sniffing. “All that work, an' what thanks do we get? Nothin'.”

“Um, thanks,” Willow offered tentatively.

“Hey, I'm not turning you into a soprano,” Buffy said shrugging. “I think that's thanks enough.”

Eitri sighed. “If you won't stay for that, then we're done here.”

Buffy grinned again, sheathing Gram and putting it on her belt. “Thanks. You do good work.”

“Right,” Brokkr said, taking a swig from his hip flask. “Tell your friends. Then tell them to go away and leave us the hell alone.”

“Right,” Eitri agreed, as he grabbed his glass of mead. “Now get the hell out!”

The two women and their wolf pup were swiftly hustled out of the dwarves' home, and the door was slammed shut behind them. “Charming. Bet they get tons of visitors, manners like that,” Buffy said sarcastically.

“Well, normally they only work for the Norse gods, so I think we should be happy they fixed it for us at all,” Willow said.

“Okay, I can do happy,” Buffy said with a silly grin as she drew Gram again. “This thing is awesome. Totally worth all the trouble.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “Slayers. Anyway, let's get back. We've got a dragon to show it to.”

**Author's Notes**  
The fly killing was a reference to the tale of the forging of Mjollnir by Brokkr and Eitri. In that story, while it is never stated, it is implied that the fly was actually Loki in disguise trying to screw up the crafting of his brother's hammer. This is just a bit of fun as a reference to the myths, and should not be taken too seriously.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**The Wrath of the Dragon**

 

It was cold. In just the few days that had passed since their previous visit to Sweden, a cold front had moved in, bringing with it nearly a foot of snow. Buffy, Willow, and four Slayers crouched together, bundled in their best winter clothing, trying to keep warm.

Buffy pouted slightly. She wasn't nearly as cold as she had been when they had encountered the trolls, but then she had had Willow's magic to help. While she was glad that her friend had listened to her and had cut down on her usage, she really missed the warmth that Willow could have easily provided. As much as she loved getting her way... sometimes she hated having to make her way be the hard way.

Everyone shivered again as the wind picked up, howling through the pines and blowing snow in their faces. “This sucks,” Buffy said with a pout. “I'm still cold from the lake.”

“That's what you get for swimming with trolls,” Willow said with a shrug.

“You make it sound like I took up a hobby. A- a troll based _hobby,_ ” Buffy groused.

“Your words,” Willow said innocently. She suddenly stiffened, looking into the distance.

“What is it?” Mary asked. She was a slim girl with mousy brown hair and a shy smile, as well as one of the fastest Slayers Buffy had, meaning that she was a good choice for distracting the dragon without getting herself killed.

“I feel something...” Willow trailed off. “Dimensional instability of some kind. It's big.”

“Dragon big?” Buffy asked.

Suddenly Nia stiffened. She was a short girl from central Africa, with an infectious grin and a cheerful attitude. She also had the keenest spidey-sense of all of the Slayers on their mission. “I feel something... it must be the dragon.”

“How do you know?” Antonina, an amateur gymnast from Russia with large blue eyes asked.

Nia shivered. “If it isn't, I do not want to meet whatever it is and a dragon.”

“Then let's get ready,” Leah said with a thick Scottish burr. She had been part of a number of missions with Buffy, and she was carrying the Scythe.

“Okay,” Buffy said. “Let's go over it all one more time, make sure we're ready before we get dragony. First, everyone got your amulets?”

There were murmurs of assent from all of the Slayers, several of them showing the items as proof. Willow had made them the night before after they had returned from Svartálfaheim by twisting pine needles around a string into a complex knot while quietly chanting, invoking several gods of fire. The end result wouldn't last long, nor did it look impressive, but they all hoped that they would do their job.

“Remember, they'll protect against fire,” Willow said, gesturing at the amulets. “But not the dragon's fire. Dragon fire one of the most powerful mystical substances known to witchcraft, and no spell will work against it one hundred percent. But it'll help a little, and be a big help if any other fires break out.”

“Don't jump into the dragon breath, got it,” Nia said with a grin.

“Right,” Buffy said, bringing their attention back to her. “Remember, my new sword can kill the dragon, and the Scythe probably can, but normal weapons? Not so much. And I'm not feeling too hopeful for magic doing the trick either. So it'll probably come down to me, putting the last hit in to finish it. Or, you know, one of you with my sword if I get squished.

“Anyway,” Buffy continued, clearing her throat. “Willow, you need to bring it to the ground and keep it there. Leah and I will try and do the flanking thing to keep it off balance. The rest of you girls will be distractions. Be careful! I do not want to have to put 'too distracting' on anyone's tombstone. Talk about embarrassing.”

The Slayers chuckled nervously for a moment, before Buffy continued. “Now remember, it'll be big and scary, but we've killed big and scary before. Watch out for the tail, and I hope I don't have to warn you 'bout the claws and teeth. And, you know, the fire. If in doubt, back off and try again when it isn't ready for you. And if one of us drops, your first priority is to get whoever it is to safety. Remember: Rule One is don't die.”

The Slayers murmured agreement, and Buffy looked them over carefully. They all appeared eager, although they were nervous too. They had had more time than Buffy to go over the information Xander's researchers had dug up on dragons while Buffy and Willow had been getting Gram fixed, and they knew just how dangerous their foe was.

“Don't worry,” Buffy said. “Me and my friends beat up a hell god once. We kicked the ass of the First Evil. No way am I letting some dumb scaly dragon break my streak. We're Slayers. In a little while, we'll be _Dragon Slayers_.”

The girls gave a small cheer before stomping their feet and stretching to get warmed up and ready to fight. Buffy smiled as she saw them, happy that her little speech seemed to have recovered some of the morale that waiting for the entire day in the cold had slowly sapped away. They were finally ready to do it.

The wind picked up again, roaring through the pines with great intensity. It took a few moments, but soon they all realized that the sound wasn't simply the wind. It was the dragon, roaring in the distance as it came forward, wings beating loudly in the air.

Buffy noticed it a moment later, the malignant power of the dragon's presence feeling to her Slayer senses like heat pouring off of a vast evil furnace. In the distance they could see a flash of fire in the sky, and then their keen Slayer eyesight could make out a black smudge moving against the clouds. With another burst of flame, the dragon lit up the night, allowing them to see it clearly for the first time.

It was huge, with a head the size of a garbage truck, a body larger than a house, and a tail streaming behind it as it flew. The creature was covered in black scales, and had huge teeth longer than Buffy's arms, and claws longer than her legs. It gave another enormous roar, flames licking for a moment around its face as it did, revealing gleaming red yes.

No inspirational speech, not even delivered by an orator far more skilled than Buffy, could have possibly prepared them for the dragon's sheer presence. More than its size and obvious strength, more than the accounts of its terrible wrath, more even than the oppressive weight of its great power pressing down on their supernatural senses, something about the creature simply screamed danger.

For just a moment, even Buffy quailed as she looked up at the dragon. She had heard accounts of a dragon appearing during the battle in Los Angeles, but it had been one of the lesser beasts. This was a True Dragon, and the same place within that rose to the challenge presented by the demonic wolves wanted to cower before a creature even more dangerous than the Slayer.

Buffy, however, wasn't just her inner Slayer. She, personally, had faced the beasts of hell for over nine years, and in that time she had been tested in the crucible that was the Hellmouth. Standing tall and proud she slowly drew her sword, letting the side of the blade rub against the sheath loudly, the scraping ring attracting the attention of the stunned Slayers clustered around her.

The blade had felt powerful in her hand from the first moment that she had touched it, but now it seemed... eager. Raising it overhead, she stared at the flickers of fire that reflected along its edge as the dragon roared once again. As she gazed into it, her hand began to shake slightly. However, where a moment before the loss of control would have been caused by fear, now it was eagerness. She knew, shifting her bloodthirsty gaze from Gram to Fafnir, that she would win.

“Willow,” Buffy said, her voice firm and commanding. “Ground it.”

Willow was no less a veteran than Buffy, having fought in countless battles against the dark. Drawing herself up, she reached out with her mystical senses, focusing on her link to the earth beneath her feet. She was about to try something that she had never done before, but, seeing her best friend standing ready to do battle with the terrible beast, she knew that she had to do her part as well.

Taking a deep breath, she began to chant. “Boreas, I beseech thee, give me thy power.” Willow's hair slowly began to turn white, as a cold wind suddenly blew down from the north, bringing with it the smell of ice. “Notus, lend me thy aid.” A hot wind, smelling of sand rolled over them, coming from the south. “Eurus, bless this endeavor.” From the east a moist wind and the scent of fresh rain in the morning, arose suddenly. “Zephyrus, I call upon thee to help us now.” From the west came a wind bearing with it the sweet smell of blooming wildflowers.

Willow raised her arms, her hair now completely white as it was whipped in every direction by the competing winds. “Anemoi, blow and thunder! Rise and roar! The Four Winds, strike down my foe! Before our power, let the enemy be destroyed!”

The winds stopped as suddenly as they had appeared, but despite the sudden stillness Willow's white hair continued to be tossed by the nonexistent breeze. All was silent for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, until, with a great roar, a twisting, swirling vortex of wind arose all around Willow. Rising high into the sky, growing upwards into the shape of a funnel, was an enormous tornado.

The sound, standing at ground zero, was deafening. Snow whipped in every direction, driving into the Slayers' eyes, nearly blinding them even as they stared in horrified awe at the sudden natural disaster that had formed in their midst. Even as trees were uprooted and everything on the ground was ripped into the air, the six women found themselves completely untouched by the lashing winds.

When the tornado finally reached the heavens it paused for a moment, the cloud cover overhead twisting and churning as it met the roaring winds. The storm, larger than life, paused for a moment, and then began to move. Trees cracked and tore as the tornado surged forward, tearing a path to the dragon, which suddenly seemed small compared to the force of nature that Willow had invoked to attack it.

Fafnir had hesitated in surprise when it had first seen the tornado, but it hadn't taken long to figure out the danger. Twisting in the air with surprising grace, the enormous dragon began to fly away from the storm as fast as it could flap its leathery wings. If it had been a natural tornado it would have easily escaped.

Willow's storm wasn't. It sped faster and faster, until it reached its target, pulling the dragon into the center of the spiral. Even above the wind they could hear Fafnir's pained roar, and the tornado lit up with white hot flames, melting snow and catching uprooted pines ablaze. Burning trees shot from the storm like fireballs, landing all around the forest with ground shaking impacts.

Then, all at once, the tornado unravelled. Everything within it was tossed high into the air, before plummeting, on fire, back to the earth, the shrieking dragon included. For a moment the five Slayers could do nothing but stand in stunned silence, until with a moan Willow collapsed panting to the ground.

Buffy looked back at her in concern for a single moment, but at the Willow's nod, she swung her sword through the air and shouted, “Go!”

The Slayers ran, following the trail of destruction the tornado had caused, the path having been swept clear of enough snow to allow them to move quickly. Hopping over shattered trees and broken detritus, they rapidly closed with where they had seen the dragon fall. Finally, amidst broken, burning trees, they found it.

The first thing that they noticed was the smell. The dragon stank, like rotten eggs combined with the smell of a reptile house at a zoo. Mixed with this was the smell of smoke as pine trees slowly burned, the fire crackling away in the frozen forest.

The dragon itself looked a bit battered, its wings torn and twisted from its time in the tornado. However, despite the obvious damage, the creature was already on its four legs, acidic drool dripping from its fanged maw and smoke rising from its nostrils. As they approached it finished untangling its broken wings, its eyes immediately locking with them as it let out a bone rattling roar.

Buffy didn't hesitate, running directly towards it, only to dive and roll across the snowy ground as the dragon spat fire at her. The flame was pure white, blinding in its intensity, and so hot that even though she avoided it completely, her amulet still didn't keep her from feeling the incredible heat of the dragon fire.

The other Slayers had taken her distraction to fan out around the creature, Leah moving the farthest so that she came at it from behind, the Scythe at the ready. However, despite being in its apparent blind spot, the dragon reacted, flicking its long tail at her before she could react, catching her in the stomach with enough force to send her flying dozens of yards through the air and into a snowbank.

Mary dashed forward, a battle axe in her hand, her speed so great that she was nearly a blur as she charged. She was forced to abort her run, however, as the beast turned its body, lashing out at her with a powerful claw. From the other side Nia dashed towards it, hurdling the dragon's tail and swinging her heavy bladed sword at the dragon's flank.

The weapon struck the scales with a loud thump, the blade rebounding, sending a painful shock up Nia's arms as her weapon bounced off the scales. Despite the futility of the attack, Fafnir roared in outrage, turning to swipe at her with its claws. Nia had been prepared, however, and was already retreating, even as Mary and Antonina dashed at it, weapons at the ready.

The attacks of the Slayers were about as effective as fleas biting an elephant, but they kept it annoyed long enough for Buffy to get in close. Gram was eager in her hand, and she slashed upwards into the joint at the dragon's reversed knee, cutting through steel hard scale and thick tendon like they weren't even there. Black blood, boiling hot and thick as tar, came pouring out of the wound, and the creature screamed in agony.

The dragon reared back on its hind legs, and even as Buffy started to retreat she could see that the wound inflicted by Gram was slowly spreading, her attack eating away at the surrounding flesh, widening ever more and bleeding freely. With a great, convulsive heave, Fafnir suddenly flapped its broken wings, screeching in pain once more as it did. The blast of wind was profound despite the tattered state of the wings, sending all four Slayers in the immediate area flying backwards into the trees in a cloud of snow.

Buffy struck a pine squarely, the tree cracking against her as she then fell to the ground in a cascade of broken branches. Hitting a snowbank, Buffy moaned in pain, her back one giant bruise. Ignoring it with the ease of long experience, Buffy tightened her grip on her sword and climbed resolutely to her feet.

Fafnir stood on three legs, raising its head high in the air on its sinuous neck as it took a huge breath of air. The earlier fire breathing had been impressive, but had been nothing compared to what came next. For the first time, the dragon truly employed its breath.

A stream of impossibly bright white flame poured in an endless tide from the dragon's mouth as the creature slowly tracked its head across the clearing. The flame was so hot that anything directly touched by it simply exploded. Snowbanks burst apart in concussive blasts of steam and melted snow, trees burst into flaming clouds of burning splinters and ash, rocks blasted into rains of thick, syrupy magma, and the ground turned into sheets of cracked glass.

Even avoiding the flame gave little safety, as trees a dozen feet away from the fire caught instantly alight like great matches. The dragon only breathed its fire for a dozen seconds, but when it finished, the entire section of forest had become an inferno. Buffy, having avoided direct contact with the fire, staggered back to her feet, her ears ringing and her lungs straining to breath as the sudden blaze sucked all of the oxygen from the air.

Staggering forward, Buffy silently thanked Willow for her protective amulets, as she was forced to walk straight though fallen, burning trees as she approached the dragon. The area directly in front of Fafnir was an open field of glass and ash, providing no cover, but after a few moments the creature was apparently satisfied that they had perished, returning its attention to flexing its reinjured wings. It took Buffy little time to regain her bearings and circle around behind the beast, taking advantage of the smoke and the roar of the forest fire to close with it.

The dragon suddenly turned its head as Nia came running out of the burning trees, brandishing her sword as she came. With the dragon distracted Buffy took a running start and somersaulted onto the creature's back, grabbing hold of a thick scale. The dragon noticed its uninvited passenger immediately, turning its head and painfully flapping its wings to try and dislodge her.

Nia saw that her distraction wasn't working and shifted her focus, running up to its injured leg and stabbing the dragon in its open wound. The point of the sword bit deeply into the tough meat of the dragon's leg, scraping bone, and causing it to howl in pain once more, twisting its head back around to snap at the Slayer.

Nia managed to dodge the bite, but she wasn't fast enough avoid the follow up by the dragon's claw. She flew across the clearing, three bloody gashes open on her side, and the dragon limped towards her, murder in its eyes. Nia managed to climb to her knees, her eyes wide as she stared into the powerful gaze of the dragon.

It would have been her final moment, but Buffy had taken the time the dragon's distraction had granted her to climb up completely onto its back. Raising Gram, she stabbed the magic sword deep into the beast's spine, and its tail and back legs went limp as it roared in agony. Buffy lost her grip as the back half of the dragon collapsed to the ground, sending her tumbling to land beside the beast.

Ignoring Nia, the dragon turned its head, smoke pouring from its nostrils as it glared at Buffy, death in its eyes. Before it could act, however, Leah came running out of the trees, a primal howl on her lips and the Scythe held high over her head. The dragon ignored her at first, but, unlike the other's attacks, the magic weapon bit deep into the beast's only healthy leg, spraying blood everywhere and bringing to dragon to its belly with an impact that shook the clearing.

Buffy scrambled to her feet as she saw Mary dragging Nia to safety, while Antonina stabbed the dragon in the wound that Buffy had originally inflicted to distract it enough to allow Leah to retreat. The dragon snapped at the two Slayers harrying its flanks, Leah hacking at it whenever she closed, inflicting shallow wounds of opportunity, while Antonina used her gymnastic skills to avoid the dragon's teeth long enough to repeatedly prod the wound on its other side.

Grinning savagely, Buffy once more climbed onto the back of the dragon, this time running with sure feet along its spine until she reached its front shoulders. Gripping Gram with both hands, she carefully lined up her attack, before stabbing downward hard. The magic sword slid through scale, flesh, and bone like a hot knife through butter, until it sank home in the beasts' heart.

Everything went still for a long moment, until the dragon gave one last pained screech, its head raised to the heavens. Then, with ponderous slowness, it collapsed completely and moved no more. All was silent save the crackle of the slowly spreading forest fire as the five Slayers gathered around the dead dragon.

**Author's Notes**  
I made up the spell Willow used. She invoked all of four of the Greek winds to create a tornado. If that can't ground a dragon, nothing can. Three of the Slayers (Nia, Antonina, and Mary) were also made up by me, while Leah was in the Season 8 comic.

In the original myth, Fafnir was killed with a surprise attack with Gram through its shoulder and into its heart. While the Slayers fought differently, I had the same move be used as the killing blow.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**Heart of the Dragon**

 

“Okay, let's be serious girls,” Buffy said. “Remember: focus. We won't get another shot at this.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” Mary agreed, her face determined.

“What are you doing?” Willow asked incredulously as she came into the burned out area. The rest of the forest was strongly ablaze, although the direction of the wind was keeping the smoke away from the Slayers.

Buffy stood, holding her raised sword in by hand, her other on her hip, with one foot dramatically on the dragon's head. Mary had a small camera out and was taking pictures while the other Slayers eagerly discussed poses for the group. They all paused sheepishly as the witch glared at them.

“Um...” Buffy said uncertainly. “Pictures?”

“And why are you taking pictures?” Willow asked with exaggerated patience, her foot tapping on the glassy ground.

“Dragon,” Buffy said with a pout. “How can we not take pictures?”

Willow thought that through for a moment, before marching over to Buffy. She then turned to the camera and put her foot next to Buffy's on the dragon's head. “Well? What are you waiting for? I want some too!”

It took about fifteen minutes for them to finish taking pictures, but in the end they were all satisfied with their own individual and group shots. Finally, Buffy cleared her throat. “Okay, fun's fun, but we should get out of here. Who knows what my little puppy has been doing while we've been gone.”

“Aren't you forgetting something?” Willow asked.

Buffy frowned. “Got a shiny new sword, slew a dragon, took pictures.... nope. Can't think of a thing.”

“The heart,” Willow said. “Remember? I want to try that scrying thing, try and get a step a head of Twilight.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Do we have to? I don't even like digging the neck out of a turkey.”

Willow just glared sternly, her face resolved, until Buffy sighed and drew her sword again. It took several minutes to carefully cut away enough flesh to free the heart, which was hard, black, and the size of a bowling ball. Finally Buffy pulled it free, her face a grimace of distaste.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “One heart, extra smelly. Now can we get out of here?”

Willow pulled out a large leather sack, which Buffy dropped the heart into, before they all made their way through the forest. Everyone, even the injured Nia, was in good spirits, their recent triumph buoying them despite all of the bruises and scrapes that they had suffered during the difficult battle. By the time they reached their van, which was thankfully a good distance from the forest fire, the younger Slayers had all started loudly singing.

The huge black wolf pup had stayed in the van with two Slayers watching it, and they appeared quite harried as the creature ran past them to jump on Buffy as she emerged from the trees. “Hey, boy. We beat the mean ol' dragon!”

The trip to the airport started with excited talk, but by the time they reached their airplane and were in the air, all of the people that had fought in the battle found themselves crashing from the adrenaline. Buffy had to be awakened when they finally arrived in Scotland, where the group took another lengthy van trip to reach their headquarters. Dawn and Xander were waiting for them outside, Willow having texted ahead.

“Buffster!” Xander called. “Dragon Slayer!”

“She's a Troll Ridder too,” Willow added.

“What trolls did she get rid of?” Xander asked.

Dawn hugged Buffy, before looking warily at the huge wolf beast that loped up to them. “Um... what is that?”

“This is my new puppy,” Buffy said, petting it cheerfully. “ _Our_ new puppy. The Summers' family dog. Isn't it the cutest?”

Dawn didn't look quite as enthused, the red eyes, black fur, mouth with far too many teeth, and sheer size of the 'puppy' making her understandably nervous. She trusted her sister with her safety, though, and so she carefully reached out a hand. The wolf sniffed her for a moment, before rubbing his head against her fingers, petting himself. She suddenly giggled and began to rub his head in earnest.

“What's his name?” she asked.

Buffy frowned. “I dunno. I've been trying to think of one, but...”

“Ooh! Can I name him?” Dawn asked.

Buffy hesitated for a moment, but the hopeful look on her sister's face caused her to sigh. “Fine. You can name him... but you'll need to do a lot of the taking care of him thing. Having a dog is a big responsibility...”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “First, I'm not twelve. Second, shouldn't we be telling you that? You're the one who got the thing!”

“Well, how could I say no to him? I mean, look at that face! They're called puppy dog eyes for a reason.”

“Buffy,” Willow said, getting her attention. “I'm gonna take this and go work some mojo on it. We'll do the spell to figure out about Twilight's plans soonish, okay?”

“Sure,” Buffy agreed, before grinning at Xander. “I hear the showers calling my name. Can you help Dawnie get this little guy settled?”

“Sure, Buff,” he agreed, eyeing the huge puppy warily. For some reason he suspected that he would be the one stuck taking care of the thing.

 

* * *

 

An hour later Buffy finally felt clean again, the dirt of days of hard work and combat having finally washed down the drain, taking her stress with it. With her hair pulled back into a pony tail, and wearing a cute sweatshirt and nice jeans, she finally felt ready to brave the rest of the castle. She soon ran into Xander, who had obviously been looking for her.

“Hey Buff!” he said cheerfully, although his eyes were serious. “I think it's time to do the talking thing.”

“Talking thing?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Xander said. “You've been avoidy since we got back from fairy land. I put up with it for a while, but enough's enough. We're gonna talk about Satsu.”

“Fine,” Buffy said grumpily as she led him to her room. Closing the door, she turned to face him, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. Giving him her best bored look, she waited for whatever he had to say.

"When did you get all undead and soul having?" Xander demanded.

"What?" Buffy replied, confused.

"Well, let me run this by you and see if you've heard this song before. Recently called slayer, falls in love with older, supernatural partner. Older supernatural partner leaves new slayer for her own good. Any of this ringing any bells?"

"Oh my god," Buffy whispered, shocked.

"Plus, you really have been getting a bit broody. I'm just saying, Buff. You're blonde hair, boobs, and a heartbeat away from being Dead Boy."

"No... I..." she stuttered, trying to deny what he was saying.

Xander inexorably cut her off. "Do you remember how you felt when he walked away? 'Cause that's how she feels right now. I know you're hurting. You've had a raw deal, 'specially in the romance department. I get that you're scared. And when you're scared, really scared, not just 'ah! hell demons' scared, or 'apocalypse scared', but real, ugly, personal scared, you run. Run far and fast and pretend like nothing is wrong. Sometimes that means Hiding-in-L.A.-Buffy, sometimes that means Coma-Time-Fun-Buffy, most of the time that means Distant-General-Buffy, but you always run when it hurts.”

She looked away, her eyes damp, although she didn't let the tears fall. Part of her wanted to deny what he was saying. More of her than she wanted to admit wanted to run away from his ugly truths.

Xander put his hands on her shoulders. "Look, Buff, mi amigo. You're my best friend, and I love you to tiny pieces, and then I love the tiny pieces. But you screwed this up. If you don't take a risk, you're never gonna be happy again. You have to tell her how you feel."

She looked up at him. All alone, with the person she trusted the most in the world, the only person who had never left her... she let him see, really see just how much she was hurting. The lost, lonely, damaged little girl inside, who didn't know how to connect. It broke his heart to see it, but he just smiled at her, and held her as she started to cry. "She just left! Everyone leaves... she didn't even try! I drove her off... I drove her off in two days!"

He stroked her back as she cried, and when she finally got herself back under control he started speaking again, in a gentle but firm voice. "I know. But the eye sees all Buff. She didn't just leave... you pushed her away. No one had a clue how you really felt, especially not her... maybe not even you."

Xander pushed her back so that he could look into her eyes. "This is gonna hurt Buff, but it has to be said. When it comes to saving lives, fighting the good fight, you're the most selfless person in the world. You've given up everything fighting against evil. But Buff... you can be completely self absorbed. And hey! I get it. I really do. You spend, ballpark, 18 hours a day, minimum, running the Slayers and doing your own slaying and generally being a super hero. Add sleep, and you have very little time to be Just-Buffy. Then take time to be Sister-Buffy, then Friend-Buffy? You get spread thin.

"But the thing about a relationship? It's not just about you. You can't just take and take, and never give. She didn't have a clue you loved her... and when she decided to leave, did you try to make her stay?"

Buffy looked down, her miserable expression telling him the answer. "Maybe she'd be better off without me. People who love me... it's bad. They die. Or worse."

Xander glared at her sternly. "Hey, I'm doing the beating up here, not you! No cutting in! 'Cause Buffy, that's total crap. Bad stuff happens. A lot. Way more than your share happens to you. But it isn't your fault. And don't you think she should get a chance to decide what risks she's willing to take? She's an adult, Buff. And a Slayer. She loves you. You love her. Stop being all broody and making this hard! Relationships are hard enough without bringing this kinda crap into it."

"I do love her," Buffy whispered, a lost expression on her face.

"I know,” he said gently. “But she's the one who needs to know."

"What if... what if she doesn't love me anymore?"

He gave her a patented Xander grin. "Come on, Buff. You hurt her, yeah, but she was completely in love with you, like, a month ago. No one's that fickle. Yeah, you screwed this one up. She'll probably give you the cold shoulder. You deserve some cold shouldering. But you have to show her you really love her. And build some of the trust, 'cause after letting her leave, you have just about none. Give her time, and keep at it a bit, and she'll trust you with her heart again."

"Thanks Xand," Buffy said, pulling away and composing herself. "You're right. About a lot." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, and he flushed in response. "I don't tell you this enough, but you're my best friend. The brother I never had. I know I'm bad at showing it, but I do love you."

"Love you too Buff,” he answered gruffly. “Now come on, let's move on. I'm way past the legal limit for sappy moments. We keep this up, and they'll take my man card away."

She smirked as she cleaned her face. "Sorry, they took that away back in high school."

He rolled his eyes. "I knew being one of the girls would come back to haunt me."

"But the pink sparkly ID card goes with everything!" Buffy objected facetiously.

"See, the problem with being in the girl club: I know enough to know that it doesn't."

Buffy started to giggle, then laugh, a deep, soul cleansing laugh. "Yup. Not even your collar! Maybe the belled shoes, though."

"I'll bell your shoes!"

"What would that even mean?"

"I dunno. But seeing Bradan, I'm sorta wondering what you got up to while I was caged."

"No power on this earth!" Buffy said with a grin as she flopped down in a chair.

“Fine, fine,” Xander said. “That's weeks old gossip anyway. Come on, I know you did something fun on this trip. What's this I hear 'bout you getting rid of trolls?”

 

* * *

 

Willow took a shower and cleaned up, before taking her package containing a somewhat ripe dragon heart with her to her work area. Setting it down, she went to her room and grabbed her oversized blender. Normally she used it to make daiquiris and other adult beverages for parties, but she had a new purpose for it that evening.

Returning to her magic workshop, she referenced her books one more time before hooking up the blender. Opening the package containing the heart, she wrinkled her nose at the slimy black object, before putting on thick insulated gloves for protection as she handled it. Placing the entire heart in the blender, she then turned it to the highest setting.

Dragon hearts were incredibly tough, so it took some time before her blender had finally reduced it to a thick reddish black slurry. Grabbing a large glass, she filled it with the substance before carefully disposing of the rest. She then muttered a quick incantation over the drink, as well a prayer to the goddess that she didn't poison her friend, before going in search of Buffy.

She finally found her sitting in her room chatting with Xander. They both looked up when she came in, and she did her best to smile disarmingly at them. Buffy kept her suddenly wary gaze locked on the glass instead, however, ruining the effect.

“What is that?” Buffy asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “I can smell it from here.”

“What, you'll drink your weight in troll ale, but not a potion I make?” Willow objected.

“Troll ale?” Xander asked. “I seem to be missing some juicy gossip here. What, was Buffy ridding the trolls of alcohol?”

“With how much she drank... possibly,” Willow allowed. “She did get the title right after she partied with Olaf.”

“I'm right here,” Buffy complained. “And I didn't mention it 'cause there was nothing worth mentioning. Period.”

“I'll tell you all about it later,” Willow promised. “There was singing!”

Buffy pouted. “Fine. I know when I'm getting ganged up on.”

“Finely honed tactical mind,” Xander said with a sage nod. “I see why she's the general.”

“So... potion?” Buffy asked. “What's this potion thingy about?”

“Remember that idea I had,” Willow explained. “About getting some intel on Twilight? Well, this is part of it. You take this potion, and I can get us some answers. Let us get ahead of him for a change.”

“And you needed a dragon heart for this plan, why?” Buffy asked, dreading the answer.

“It was the-a, _a_ , major component of the potion,” Willow said with an innocent smile.

“Last time I had to drink a heart potion was 'cause of the No Mouth demons,” Buffy complained. “Not really looking forward to a repeat. Even out of my mind, it was way beyond gross.”

“Look, do you want to get ahead of Twilight or not?” Willow asked. “'Cause I thought you were the one that wanted to not just react to this guy anymore.”

“There's a big gap between not just being all reactiony, and eating a dragon heart,” Buffy said. “Huge gap.”

“Come on, Buffy,” Willow cajoled. “This will let you make use of the same scrying magics Odin uses. I mean, he's a god who's big with the knowing thing. How much better can you get?

“Why do you want me to drink it, then?” Buffy asked. “I mean, if its to help with the mojo, shouldn't you drink it?”

“No,” Willow said, shaking her head. “When I first read about it I kinda wanted to, but... I don't think I can. Only a true heroes ever manage to drink it.”

“Then you could!” Buffy objected. “You've saved the would tons of times!”

“Maybe,” Willow said with a shrug. “I don't really feel much like a hero, but maybe I could drink it. And maybe Xander could, or Giles, or Faith, or any of your Slayers. I dunno what a real hero would be to the people who thought up this bit of magic.”

“Then why-” Buffy started.

Willow cut her off. “'Cause there's a big gap between 'maybe can' and 'really can'. Maybe we can... but I know you can. I... I believe in you.”

Buffy swallowed hard, unable to think of anything to say for a long moment. “I... how can I say no after that?”

“You can't,” Willow said smugly. “So, well, bottoms up!”

Buffy frowned. “I just got tricked, didn't I? You preyed on my ego!”

“Big target,” Xander teased.

“I'm gonna get revenge someday,” Buffy promised as she took the glass. “I don't know how, but you're all gonna regret this.”

“Shouldn't that be followed with a crazed, maniacal laugh?” Xander asked. “I've heard they're very therapeutic.”

“Probably not a good idea,” Willow said thoughtfully. “Give people superpowers, make them into an army, rob banks, fight the government, _and_ cackle manically? I think we'd officially be the villains at that point.”

“Don't give Twilight any ideas,” Xander said. “We'd probably end up painted as the bad guys if he had his way.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, before taking a long drink from the glass. She stiffened as she did, her face screwing up in horror. It was the single most terrible thing that she had ever consumed. It was thick and slimy, and coated her teeth and tongue with a thick, vaseline-like film. Choking it down, she tried to ignore her taste buds, which rebelled against swallowing something that tasted like spoiled blood soaked in rotting vomit.

When she finished, Buffy tried to set her glass down, but forgot where her table was, causing her to drop it to the ground, shattering it. Xander reached out to steady her as she swayed, while Willow wrung her hands in concern. “Buffy?” she asked. “Are you... okay?”

“Agh,” Buffy choked, her stomach rebelling. Nothing could possibly have tasted, or felt, so vile.

“Oh, goddess!” Willow panicked. “I was sure she could drink it! I've poisoned her!”

“What?!” Xander yelped.

“Normally dragon blood is poisonous, and meat? Really poisonous. I'm gonna have to throw out my blender after this... and why am I worried about my blender! I fed Buffy pureed dragon heart and she's gonna die!”

“What did you feed me?” Buffy forced out between clenched teeth.

“You're not dying!” Willow said, relieved.

“Someone's dying,” Buffy muttered. “Pureed dragon heart? That was your fancy magic? You put the heart in a blender and made me drink it?”

“There were a few words, too,” Willow muttered, shifting uncomfortably under Buffy's withering glare.

“Vengeance,” Buffy croaked.

“So!” Xander said, changing the topic. “That wasn't at all completely gross just to think about, much less watch! What's step two? Hopefully something involving being sky clad?”

“Vengeance,” Buffy muttered again.

**Author's Notes**  
This story is almost complete, leaving only the epilog. It has been a wild ride through some of the less well known corners Norse Mythology, but I've enjoyed it immensely (even if few other people seemed to, based upon my hits and reviews!)

The conversation between Xander and Buffy in this chapter was actually written before Claiomh Solais was even finished – I knew what I wanted to say, and when I was in the zone writing Xander I put it to paper (well, recorded it with emacs) for when it was time. It was nice for it to finally be that time.

In the myth eating Fafnir's heart had some... specific effects. You'll see in the epilog. Nowhere in the myth does it require a hero to eat it, but in these sorts of myths fate always seems to conspire to make it that way anyway. I also made a reference to the way that the Slayer organization became the bad guys in the press during Season 8 for killing the lovable and popular vampires. That won't be happening in my divergence.


	17. Epilogue

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own anything. Buffy is not owned by me. It is owned by rich, talented people. I'm a nobody. Please don't sue me.

 

**Scrying**

 

Willow had used little magic to prepare the dragon heart for Buffy to consume. She simply needed to take advantage of a natural property of the heart, something that would help anyone who ate one. The next step of her plan, however, was far more complicated.

While Buffy recovered from the potion and sat quietly chatting with Xander, Willow spent over an hour drawing a circle on the ground. It was similar to what she used to summon Ratatoskr, in the same way that See Spot Run was similar to War and Peace. The final result was a runic circle of such surpassing complexity that it pained the eyes to try to understand it.

“Okay!” Willow said cheerfully. “You ready?”

“Nope,” Buffy answered.

“Then I'll just... what do you mean, 'nope'?” Willow said, turning to look at her friend for the first time.

“Pretty hard to be ready when I don't know what for,” Buffy pointed out reasonably.

“Oh, right,” Willow said. “I'm going to summon Huginn and Muninn, Odin's ravens. You'll be able to talk to them, and tell them what you want to know.”

“Okay,” Buffy said slowly. “How can I talk to them?”

“The heart,” Willow explained. “It'll let you talk to them, otherwise you couldn't understand them, which is why people can't normally use this spell.”

“Alright,” Buffy said, standing up. “Do it.”

Willow pulled a pair of sheep eyes from a pouch, placing them at the center of the circle, before slowly chanting in ancient Norse. Finally, after a long moment, shadows began to coalesce into the form of two large ravens, standing at the center of the circle. They took the entire room in slowly, before quickly gobbling down the eyes.

“Ew,” Buffy said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

“Naw, toots,” one of the ravens said. “Tastes like a ram.”

“Toots?!” Buffy yelped.

“He called you toots?” Xander asked with a grin.

The two ravens looked up at him, before conferring among themselves. “He's got one eye,” one of them said.

“Yeah, looks pretty dumb though,” the other said. “No way he traded it for knowin' anythin'.”

Buffy snickered, before stepping forward. “Hey, um, birdies.”

They both drew themselves up, ruffling their feathers self importantly. “Birdies!” one shrieked. “I'll show you birdies, blondie!”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Right. You and what army?”

“Um, Buffy, maybe you shouldn't taunt the magic birds,” Willow whispered.

“Look, we gots important business,” one raven said. “So whattaya need us for?”

“I need to know about Twilight,” Buffy said. “What can you tell me?”

“Nothin',” one said. “Not 'til we go lookin'.”

With that they both promptly flew out the window. “What happened?” Xander asked.

“They said they'd have to go look for info,” Buffy explained.

 

* * *

 

Several hours later the two ravens returned, crouching on Buffy's windowsill. When Buffy looked at them they immediately began to talk.

“Twilight's not fully real,” one said. “Just a spirit, a force of change, makin' way for the universe to be reborn in its next age. He's 'sposed ta exist, same way as gravity, see?”

“Until it's ready to make its move, it can't be killed,” the other explained. “You'll have to wait until everything is in balance, then strike while it's not ready.”

“But 'til then, yous can stop his schemin'. He's gonna have a big party in Japan, real soon like. Lotta fun. Lots of eyes to eat... even tasty human!”

“Japan,” Buffy said, her heart clenching. “When?”

“Right now!” the ravens said in unison, before turning into shadow and fading away.

“Buffy, what's wrong?” Xander asked.

Buffy was pale as she looked at them. “Whatever Twilight's doing next, he's doing it in Japan. Right now.”

Willow and Xander traded looks. “Then you should get packin' and explain to Dawnie where you're going,” Xander said. “I'll call the airport.”

“And I've got to get ready to head to the Coven,” Willow said. “But if you need me... I'll be there. Always.”

“Thanks Wills, Xan,” Buffy said. “I couldn't do this without you. You know that right?”

“Group hug!” Xander suddenly called.

As Xander and Willow started heading towards the door, Buffy's voice suddenly stopped them. “Actually, got a question.”

“What?” Xander asked.

Buffy looked out the window, her eyes locked on a tree. “Why exactly is that bird yelling about the tree being all his? 'Cause that's really wiggy.”

Willow cleared her throat carefully, a nervous smile on her face. “Um... that potion. With the dragon heart?”

“Side effect,” Buffy asked, her tone completely level.

“No, no!” Willow objected. “No side effects! Just, well, effects.”

Buffy slowly turned to face her, her expression forbidding. “Effects?”

“Well, Huginn and Muninn are, well, birds,” Willow explained carefully. “So only people who can speak, um, bird, can understand them. So... surprise!”

“And when does it wear off,” Buffy asked reasonably, her face blank.

“Wear off?” Willow asked.

Buffy glared at her, her arms crossed over her chest. Xander took advantage of their distraction to sneak away, leaving them both alone. Willow smiled innocently.

“Um... never?” Willow offered.

“Willow...” Buffy growled. “Isn't that something that I should really _really_ have known about before before drinking the potion?”

“But then you wouldn't have drunk it,” Willow pointed out reasonably.

“Willow!” Buffy shouted.

“Bye! Coven calling me!” Willow shouted over her shoulder as she ran.

“Willow!”

**Author's Notes**  
There's that. This story now leaves European mythology behind for a while to spend some quality time in Japan. Japan has a rich history of magical swords, and I intend to take full advantage. This is also going to be the beginnings of the romance for the series, although the pairing isn't going to push the story out. It should hopefully simply add to the piece, rather than distracting from it.

It'll be a bit before I get to the next story, however, as holidays and other ideas (in particular something for a live journal thing my sister is moderating that she's been twisting my arm to post on) have cut into my writing on this series. I like to have a bit of a lead time when I write, so that I can backtrack and change things, but I'm now without one. For the first time since I started posting Slayer of Harrowstone, it looks as though I'll need to take a bit of a break from my Monday and Friday update schedule. I'm still writing everyday, though, so I'll have material to post on something soon!


End file.
